DVD Delights
by CeliaEquus
Summary: A collection of stories based on a movie that I own on DVD. There will be one movie for each letter of the alphabet. Various pairings, but mainly HG/SS. Various genres. Unashamedly AU. Usual disclaimers apply.
1. Adventures of Milo & Otis, The

"The Adventures of Milo & Otis"

Paws scrabbled at earth, trying to get purchase. Panicked meows filled the cavernous hole in which Hermione found herself. How she had got in there, she couldn't remember. Oh, yes, that was right. The ferret was actually a snake, and had nearly struck her while she was in that tree. Now she was stuck, and there was no way in hell Malfoy was going to get help for her.

It had been Animagus Day at Hogwarts. Since Voldemort was defeated in their fifth year, it had become part of the curriculum that any student with high enough magical powers had to train to be an Animagus. This was part of some Ministry of Magic initiative, of which Professor Dumbledore certainly didn't approve. But, as they had surprisingly provided quite a lot of assistance during the final battle, he couldn't say no to them. Not this time.

Hermione had become a cat, which made Professor McGonagall cry the first time she was able to transform. Of course, Hermione was now being teased for being the Head of Gryffindor's new 'protégé', much to the amusement of her friends.

However, she was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the Ministry.

"Help!" she meowed as loudly as she could. Her voice was getting scratchy, just as her claws would be scratchy next time she met that blonde-haired brat. She hissed under her breath, but then nearly wailed in relief when she heard someone coming.

"It's all right! I'm here!" they called, and they looked over the edge.

"Don't come too close, or you'll fall in!" she cried back, sitting down anxiously. Who was this person? A dog, yes. A beautiful one, at that. Sleek and black, but definitely not Padfoot/Snuffles/Sirius. No; this was quite someone else.

"Wait there," the dog said.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Calm down, for one! Ugh. Cats," he muttered, and she could almost hear him stalking off. She rolled her catty eyes, tail flicking. Finally, she heard her rescuer return, and he threw a branch down to her, dropping it in such a way that it was leaning against the wall of the pit.

With several powerful bounds, Hermione kept attempting to leave her dirt prison. But it was no good.

"It's not tall enough!" she shouted, and she scratched the branch in a fit of temper. She hissed at it.

"I'll be back soon," the dog told her, his voice calm as he tried to placate her. It wasn't working.

"If I had my wand, I'd bloody well use it," she muttered, stalking back and forth. However, the dog heard, and it tilted its head.

"A wand," he murmured. "Of course. What an idiot."

"Hey! I've still got cat hearing down here!"

"Where is your wand, if you're indeed a witch?" the dog asked snootily.

"Still up there," she said, giving him a feline glare. "I don't suppose you could be a good doggy and 'fetch' it for me?"

"I, Madame," he said, "have never 'fetched' anything in my life, and I certainly do not intend to start now, especially for someone so foolish as to have left their wand up here in the first place."

"Just who _are_ you?"

"An Animagus, like you."

"Then can't you turn yourself back into a human? Or are you a student, like me? You're definitely not anyone I recognise. But I can't turn myself back without a wand yet. I need it to be within three feet of me."

"This ought to be good," the canine said, a smirk causing him to bare his teeth. Hermione, seeing this, shrank back a bit.

"I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "It's very good of you to help me. I don't suppose… could you please throw my wand down here?"

"Certainly," he replied, and he picked it up gently between his teeth. He threw it down into the hole, and Hermione dashed over to it. She immediately changed back into human form, shocking the dog back into his natural state.

"Miss Granger?" he thundered, and Hermione's jaw dropped when she saw her saviour.

"P-professor Snape?" she asked, stammering yet again.

"Indeed, it is I."

"Uh… hello."

"Hello, indeed, Miss Granger. And what, may I ask, are you doing all the way out here?"

"Your dear godson frightened me out of that tree," she said, pointing. Then, realising that she was still in the hole, she enlarged the branch until it was big enough for her to climb up… at least, if she was in cat form. She threw the wand back up to ground level, morphed into her feline form, and leapt up the log until she reached blessedly green lawn. She turned back into her human form, picked up her wand, and cleaned herself off.

"Better?" Professor Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. And, uh… thank you, sir. For rescuing me."

"You should have known better than to let yourself be 'frightened' by Draco," he said, and they began to walk back to the school. "Where was that Gryffindor courage?"

"And where was my teacher's brain when he tried to get me out of the hole using non-magical means?" she retorted. However, at his dark look, she quickly apologised, before asking why the hole was there in the first place.

"The headmaster wants to build a Japanese garden, and decided to start with the pond, not thinking to put up any warning signs or give notice," the replied. "But then, he would hardly be expecting anyone to go down this far, or be foolish enough to fall in."

"Hmph."

They continued to walk, this time in silence. Finally, Hermione asked the other question she was dying to know the answer to.

"Sir?"

"What is it, Granger?"

"You know your Animagus form?"

"Intimately."

"Uh, well, it's a black dog."

"How observant."

"Which is the same as Sirius Black."

This broke the potions master's stride.

"Just what are you suggesting, Miss Granger?"

"Well…"

"For your information," he said, facing her head on, and closing the distance between them, "I became an Animagus _before_ Sirius Black."

"Oh?"

"Yes. _'Oh'_."

"And so… hang on…"

"I'm waiting, Granger."

"Did he," she began, hardly daring to ask, "see you before he became an Animagus?"

Professor Snape nodded slowly, smirking as Hermione's eyes widened in realisation.

"Then he…"

"Became a womaniser to cover his real sexuality," he said. "And tormented me to try and get over his crush." Hermione's eyes widened further. "And his assassination attempt was supposed to be his opportunity to 'save' me, after he came to terms with his feelings. James Potter spoiled that plan, not wanting his friend to be with the 'slimy git'."

"And do you feel the same…"

"No. I've never batted for the other team, Hermione."

"I see," she said, biting her lower lip. She didn't notice her professor's sudden interest in the movement. "Poor Sirius. Did he ever try again after that?"

"Ask him yourself. I refuse to comment."

"You were never tempt…"

"No. Good day, Miss Granger."

He stalked off, and Hermione was left to goggle over the day's revelations.

And plan the demise of a certain ferret-snake…

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The first of 26 chapters, people! I decided to write a short story based on one of my DVDs for each letter of the alphabet. Yep. I've got at least one movie for each letter of the alphabet. About half a dozen of them only have one DVD to cover them; but for several of the chapters, I shall be asking for your helping in picking which movie to write about.

**As you can see—for those of you familiar with the movie **_**The Adventures of Milo & Otis**_**—I started with the scene that always made me cry in the film, where Milo is stuck in the hole, and Otis comes to rescue him. The rest of the story bears no resemblance. Some stories shall be like this; others will involve the characters watching the movies, or becoming characters in the stories. Things like that.**

**The possibilities are endless! So please review, and tell me if this should be continued.**

**Oh, and most of these chapters will be the HG/SS pairing, if not all. I may prefer to do some other couples, and not all will be romantic.**


	2. Bye Bye Birdie

"Bye Bye Birdie"

Hermione was grumpy and moody, and Severus was desperately trying to cheer her up. He showered her with presents, tried to use Cheering Charms, and even attempted to spike her drinks and food with anti-depressants. But her sour mood remained, and he eventually turned to Professor Dumbledore.

"We'll have a concert, something to cheer her up," the headmaster, in all his wisdom, suggested. Severus looked like he was going to be sick, but agreed. Anything to make his wife feel better. She hadn't been all that well lately, either. Of course, he didn't mention this to Dumbledore. He was more concerned that his wife might be depressed.

The night of the concert, many students performed, with various degrees of talent. Before the second-last act—Draco Malfoy's stand-up comedy routine—Hermione's husband left the room, hoping that his ill-conceived plan would work.

After Malfoy left the stage to absolutely no acclaim, his face screwed up in indignation at the crowd's boos, Professor Dumbledore took to the magical microphone, rainbow bowtie glowing with good cheer.

"And last, but not least, we have our very own Professor Snape singing for his lovely wife. Give him a round of applause!"

The students, afraid of losing house points for not showing enough enthusiasm, clapped until their hands were halfway to agony, by which time Severus was in the middle of the stage, nerves taking over. But he pretended that it was just a class, and nodded to the band with his new-found confidence. They struck up a show tune, and he began to sing.

"_Grey skies are gonna clear up,_

_Put on a happy face,_

_Brush off the clouds and cheer up,_

_Put on a happy face._"

Students gasped as their potions master made smile faces appear in the air, as though they'd never seen such a thing before.

"_Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy,_

_It's not your style;_

_You'll look so good that you'll be glad_

_You decided to smile!"_

He saw that he certainly had Hermione's attention. This was better than the striptease Minerva had suggested, when he went to her for song suggestions.

"_Pick out a pleasant outlook,_

_Stick out that noble chin;_

_Wipe off that 'full of doubt' look,_

_Slap on a happy grin_!"

Hermione's eyes were as big as plates at the moment, and she was gaping at her husband as he walked down off the stage towards her, still singing. She felt tears coming to her eyes, and the beginnings of a smile touched her lips.

"_And spread sunshine all over the place,_

_Just put on a happy face!_"

He kissed his wife on the lips gently as everyone else in the Great Hall burst into thunderous applause, stamping their feet and cheering loudly… not to mention wolf-whistling when Hermione responded to the kiss with great enthusiasm. Severus pulled away, and sat beside her again as Dumbledore brought an end to the festivities. It seemed as though things were going to be all right.

Or so he thought.

"But in front of _everyone_! What will the parents of the students think?"

"We've been married for five years, Hermione, and didn't start dating until you were out of school…"

"What made you do it?" she shrieked. He'd never seen her like this, and tried to speak soothingly.

"You've just been upset, that's all, sweetie," he said, resorting to pet names to try and calm her. "I just wanted to make you feel better." He ran his hands up and down her arms, but she pulled away, and he grew angry. "Damn it, Hermione! Why the hell are you so depressed in the first place, anyway? What's the cause of all this?"

"Pregnancy hormones, you berk!"

There was silence. Then…

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes." She was looking at her feet, but he saw a tear drop onto the cold, stone floor. So she never saw the smile spread onto his face. Not until he tilted her chin up. When she saw the happiness he was exuding, she sighed in relief, and threw her arms around his neck.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked into her hair, using his hooked nose to massage her scalp as he breathed in her scent.

"You don't like the students…"

"That's other people's children. There's a difference, and you know it. What's the real reason? I know it's my child, because you're too good and loving a wife to cheat with anyone, though I wouldn't blame you."

"You miserable git," she said, hitting his back gently. "You know I hate it when you're in a self-effacing mood. If you must know, it's because… because…"

"Because what, little one?"

"Because I've seen what pregnancy does to sensible women," she blurted out. "They go all gooey, and lose any bits of common sense they formally retained." He had started to laugh as soon as she began her rant. "What if I become like them?"

"Hermione," he said, still chuckling, "those women you mentioned; do they have husbands who are indulgent, and don't challenge them during arguments?"

"Uh, yes…"

"And who find their wives quite scary when pregnant?"

"…Yes."

"My dear little wife, I'm not scared of you, nor am I indulgent. I am a former Death Eater, and perfectly capable of defending myself."

"So," she began, pulling back to look him in the eyes, "you won't allow me to lose the plot during this pregnancy?"

"No, my love. I'll make sure you stay the same as always… if a bit rounder."

Well, she had been smiling up until the last four words. Then her face crumpled, and she burst into tears, bewailing the fact that she would be putting on weight, and having to let out her robes.

But that's _quite_ another story…

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I don't own the song "Put On a Happy Face" from—you guessed it!—_**Bye Bye Birdie**_**. Don't own anything about the musical, in fact. No songs, no characters, no plot. Nothing. I just borrowed the lyrics for this story, deciding to go with the clichéd Hermione's-pregnant-and-doesn't-want-to-tell-her-husband plotline, one that I've definitely used before, and also have the concert where someone sings to tell their true love their emotions.**

**Yep. So that's it.**


	3. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

"Chitty Chitty Bang Bang"

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was just taking off into the air when Arthur Weasley heard the floo activating in the kitchen, signalling his wife's return home. Much to his grandchildren's protests, he quickly shut off the video, and shot Harry, his son-in-law, a grateful look. It had taken a couple of weeks, but he had studiously learned how to work a VCR. When Harry mentioned a VDV player—something like that—Arthur had asked about it.

"Uh… stick with videos for the moment," the black-haired man had suggested. He had been taking headache potions during the fortnight-long series of lessons, and Arthur hoped that it wasn't the strain of being a father taking its toll.

"I'm home!" Molly shouted just then. She bustled into the room to see her husband flicking through channels on the television, just like a Muggle couch tomato. "Arthur Weasley, you're a _bad_ influence on our grandchildren! They should be outside playing Quidditch, not sitting around, waving the channels."

"Surfing the channels," Harry corrected.

"We weren't, Granny," David, the five-year-old son of Percy and Penelope, said. "We were watching a movie."

"Really?" Molly asked, looking at Arthur with suspicion. He was trying to look innocent, but instead looked guilty. Using wandless magic, she silently Summoned the remote control, and immediately flipped to the video. No one had realised that she had been paying attention during Arthur's 'private' lessons.

Her eyes widened and posture stiffened when she saw the flying car. Her first impulse was to yell, "That _bloody_ car!"; but she (wisely) went with her second impulse.

She threw the remote into her husband's lap, calmly shrugged, and said, "It's been done before." Then she left the room.

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A nice little drabble for this chapter. I'm just reinforcing the point that while most of these are Snanger stories, not all of them are. Therefore, they really are disconnected, so please bear that in mind before reviewing and asking what the heck's going on.

**Now, as to the next chapter, which movie should I concentrate on?:**

"**Dick" (a comedy about the Watergate Scandal)**

"**Down With Love" (an updated version of **_**Pillow Talk**_**, I think)**

"**Dracula" (for those Gary Oldman fans out there) **

**Please review, and cast your votes! I need at least five before I can start writing.**


	4. Dracula

"Dracula"

A deep, evil laugh resounded through Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius Black, you let me go right _now_."

"But I vant to suck your blooooood!"

"Ugh," Hermione muttered, attempting to dislodge her captor's arms. "How tacky. Couldn't you think of a more original line, something that doesn't make you sound like Bela Lugosi on crack?"

"Like vot, my dearest?"

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry called up the stairs.

"As soon as your godfather lets me go, I will be!"

The Saviour of the Wizarding World climbed up to his best friend, who was being held captive by the last surviving Black. "Padfoot, let her go."

"But I'm sure Remus would agree that her blood smells so _delicious_," Sirius argued with a growl in his voice. Hermione blushed, and struggled all the more.

"No, he wouldn't," Tonks called from the guest bedroom she and Remus were sharing that Halloween weekend.

"No, he wouldn't," her husband agreed, opening the door. He smirked when he saw Dracula holding Medusa, and adamantly refusing to let her go.

"But, Moony," 'Dracula' whined, "she looks good enough to eat."

"_Really_ let me go," 'Medusa' said, pinching the flesh of Sirius' arm. "C'mon, Sirius. This isn't funny."

"Oh, Hermione, just let it all go. Be spontaneous! Be fun! Be _interesting_!" This was definitely the wrong thing to say. They all knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth. "Oh, uh… you know what I…"

"Yes, I know what you mean," she said, almost hissing now. She turned, and glared at him. "Well, while you're thinking over your own definitions of the words 'fun' and 'interesting', contemplate this bit of 'spontaneity'." With that, she took his head in her hands, and planted a kiss on his lips that went on for five, unreciprocated seconds. In that time, his arms dropped to his sides, hanging there, utterly unresponsive. Once she had let go, Hermione ran down the stairs.

The four now standing in the hallway looked at each other, lost for words. Finally, Remus cleared his throat.

"Well? Are you going after her? Or are you just going to let your unresolved feelings stay unresolved?"

"What?" Harry asked, looking between his two father-figures. "Hang on. 'Unresolved feelings'?"

"See ya," Sirius muttered, and he raced downstairs to find his Medusa.

"Harry?" Tonks said. "One day, you and Moony really should have a talk about this thing that _adults_ experience. It's called 'sexual tension', and it's when a man and a woman…"

"Ugh! I don't want to hear about that between Hermione and Sirius! No!" The young man, who was now scarred in more ways than one, went back downstairs to rejoin the Halloween festivities, closely followed by the Lupins.

Sirius had found Hermione in the library almost immediately, using his canine senses to follow her distinctive—and indeed, delicious—smell.

"Good evening," he joked, causing her to jump. "Oh. Uh, sorry."

"What are you doing here, Sirius?"

He didn't answer as he walked up behind her, where she was staring out the window at the still-grey sky. Instead, he placed a hand on the warm, soft skin of her left shoulder, bared by the strapless dress she was wearing that evening.

"Ever heard of the term 'love bite'?" he asked softly. She snorted.

"Yes, I have. Do you really think me so naïve?"

"More like 'hope' for it. Are you?"

"What does it matter?"

"Hmm." He was still studying her neck with the fascination befitting a vampire. Suddenly, he leaned down and bit at the skin. She shrieked softly, comforted only by the fact that Sirius was being reflected in the glass of the French window. After suckling at the skin for quite some time, Sirius let it go. "I was right. You _are_ delicious."

"Stop that," she said, and she rubbed the mark. "Was that _really_ necessary?"

"I wonder if you're just as delicious elsewhere?" he murmured, still ignoring her questions, and eyeing her up and down. "Nothing like doing further testing, is there?" He pulled her into his arms, and made up for his lack of responsiveness earlier by giving her a kiss that would give most men on the planet a run for their money. Hermione couldn't help but part her lips as his nose nuzzled her cheek, and his hands stroked her sides. The windows were starting to steam up by the time they pulled away from each other. "You know why dressing as Medusa is appropriate?"

"Why?" she asked, struggling to regain her breath.

"Because seeing you in that outfit is enough to make any sensible man as hard as stone."

"Sirius!" She hit him over the head. "Don't say things like that."

"Let me make it up to you," he pleaded with his secret girlfriend, "and please," he knelt down, "become the bride of Dracula?"

"Well, I may as well, since we blew all secrecy out the window with that display upstairs. Shall we announce this engagement tonight, then?"

"_Definitely_." He stood, and offered her his arm. They allowed each other one moment of meaningful, non-playful, and very sincere romance, with a kiss under the mistletoe above the library door.

It was a good thing 'Dracula' had gotten carried away when decorating. Though, when one thinks about it, had he _really_ gotten confused with the holiday traditions, or had he placed mistletoe around Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place on purpose?

Why don't you decide?

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Hmm. I was dissatisfied with the ending, so continued on to this. What do you think? Anyway, I apologise for the fact that it's been so long between updates. It's even worse with "G&S", for which I am heartily sorry.

**DVD choices for next chapter are:**

**Edward Scissorhands**

**Ella Enchanted**

**Ever After**


	5. Ever After

"Ever After"

After the Animagus Day debacle, Hermione felt that she owed her professor, if only somewhat. Therefore, she took to helping him make potions for the hospital wing in her spare time, determined to make her friends do their own work for NEWTs, rather than rely on her. Funnily enough, she found that chopping, crushing, and stirring were all very therapeutic, and she felt herself feeling calmer about the impending exams. Almost sanguine.

"You're doing well," Professor Snape said as she carefully adjusted the temperature on the bruise salve she was brewing. Hermione paused, and looked up at him.

"Thank you, sir," she murmured. It wasn't only the heat that was making her flush.

"When we're alone, you may call me 'Severus'," he said, and her jaw dropped. "It saves time when passing ingredients."

"O-of course, sir. I mean, Severus. Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Hermione."

* * *

After the exams, he presented Hermione with a gift.

"This is my way of saying 'thank you' for all your help," he said, shoving the long present towards her. Curious, Hermione opened it. She gasped when she saw that it was a glass potion stirrer, one of the finest on the market. It was unbreakable; and, like a crystal, if you looked down inside, rainbow colours swirled in its depths. It could even turn into the colour of the potion you were making, so that if the potion matched the colour of the stirrer, you knew it was perfect.

"Thank _you_, Severus," she said, throwing her arms around him. He patted her on the back, and cleared his throat loudly. She pulled back, flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Well, as you are no longer a student, I suppose this is not wholly inappropriate."

"No," she said, smiling. "But this may be." With that, she stood on her tip-toes, and pressed her lips to his. Shocked, he didn't move. However, just as she was about to pull away, he kissed her back, fiercely, holding her in a death grip. By the time they broke apart, both were in serious need of air. "Oh my. I had hoped, but that was… that was…"

"Something else," he panted. She nodded, her smile returning.

"Very much something else," she said.

* * *

Needless to say, despite the end of term approaching, they both found that they needed to continue to brew potions for the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey didn't comment on the unusual influx of healing products, as accidents were bound to happen before term concluded. And with many students able to change into their Animagus forms at the drop of a hat, she needed a greater variety of potions and salves. These, Professor Snape and Hermione provided, and she found herself hoping that the young woman would stay on at Hogwarts for awhile longer.

She mentioned this at a staff meeting, thanking the potions master personally, and asking if Hermione would be able 'stick around' for the summer, so they could be well-stocked for the next school year.

"I will indeed ask her," he said, smiling into the hand his head was resting upon. "Knowing her Gryffindor tendencies, not to mention her thirst for knowledge, I feel certain that she will be unable to resist."

"That's good," Professor Dumbledore said, beaming. "Now that that is settled, let us discuss the Graduation Ball. Masquerade, I think. Appropriate, don't you think?"

"I agree," Professor McGonagall said. She was still chuffed that Hermione's form was a cat. "Albus, I've just had a thought. If she is agreeable to it, could I take on Hermione as an apprentice?"

"If she has no objections, I don't see why not," the headmaster said, wide-eyed. "Now, why didn't I think of that?" He shook his head. "But back to the ball. Do we all agree on a masquerade theme?"

"Aye!" the staff chorused.

"Then that's settled. Next item on the agenda…"

* * *

The news of a masquerade theme, in honour of the Ministry's new Animagus policy, was well-received by the students. There were some who remained jealous that they had not be selected, but at least they had more choice of costume.

Hermione had been inspired by _Cats_, which she saw two years ago with her parents. Now that she was no longer a student, and was of age, she was able to experiment with Transfiguration on her clothes, and came up with the perfect costume. As her favourite character from the show was Mr. Mistoffelees, she made her outfit to match his: black, for the most part, with patches of white. Rather like her potions master's usual attire, come to that.

At the last moment, she decided to take along her potion stirrer, tucked into the discreet black belt which also held her wand.

"There," she said, twirling the rod before putting it in place. It was actually lighter than it looked, and aerodynamic, built for quick stirring when necessary. The more she read of the booklet that came with it, the more she discovered.

* * *

Professor Snape was more than a little surprised to see the girl—no, the woman—he loved carrying his present. He was a bit worried that she was being indiscreet; and this worry increased when she had the audacity to wink at him. He cleared his throat, but asked her to dance nonetheless.

"You graduated at the top of your class," he said, breaking the ice. She giggled, and nodded, blushing. "So what do you intend to do now?"

"What do you want me to do now, Severus?"

He stiffened, particularly when he saw that several people nearby had stopped talking; had even stopped dancing. He saw that Hermione was oblivious to this.

"You shouldn't use my name," he said quietly. "Not in public."

"But you're no longer my teacher," she said, her voice at normal volume. In fact, she got louder. "Why shouldn't I? What are you afraid of?"

"You're making a scene…"

"Well, I don't care," she said, disbelieving. "I thought we were friends, at the very least!"

There was murmuring now, as the music stopped, and everyone listened. Professor Dumbledore watched them argue. Oh, yes. He knew about their relationship, all right. After all, he was the headmaster. And he had no qualms about it whatsoever. In fact, he had planned to give them his blessing at the end of the night.

"I thought you would have cared enough not to do this, to be so bloody open about it!" Professor Snape said angrily, waving his arms to indicate their 'audience'. "Damn it, what do you suppose people will think now, after we've been brewing together all this time? You're not only jeopardising your future with your foolish actions, but mine, too! You were a student when this started." Furious, he began to stride away, and Hermione felt horrified. She took a step toward him.

"Severus, please."

Everyone—well, almost everyone—gasped, and he stopped where he was. Turning slowly, he tried to hold his temper in check.

"You will call me 'Professor' or 'sir', _Miss Granger_," he hissed.

Tears fell down her cheeks. She turned to leave, and the potion stirrer fell from her hands as she ran from cloying atmosphere of the Great Hall. Severus stalked out through the teacher's entrance.

"Uh… return to whatever you were doing," Professor Dumbledore told everyone, indicating that the band should resume playing. He then followed the potions professor, all the way to the astronomy tower. As he went, he Summoned the potion stirrer, guessing that it was a gift, and took it with him. It must have cost a fortune.

Finally, he found the man standing at the edge, letting the rain of the sudden storm hit him in the face as he stared out over the grounds.

"Tell me you don't love her," the headmaster said. Professor Snape snorted, and refused to turn around. "Lie, and say you don't care about her."

"Fine then. I don't care about her."

"Now Summon Veritaserum, and tell me again."

"What do you want, old man?"

"It's a beautiful potions rod," Professor Dumbledore said, examining it. "Plain on the outside, but strong and unbreakable; light, shining with a multitude of colours on the inside; and ever-changing."

"Hermione is anything but plain," he whispered, acknowledging the metaphor.

"And yet you left her, Severus. If she hadn't run off first, you would have."

"She felt comfortable telling the whole world about our relationship! Most of the people down in the Great Hall right now are dunderheads, but they can still catch the implications. They would have, without her… 'encouragement'." He gripped the railing in her fury. "Hell, she probably arranged this whole thing to embarrass me. Get me fired, even. Rita Skeeter's there, for Merlin's sake!"

"I would never fire you, Severus. You're too valuable to this school; too valuable to me." He placed the stirring rod on a nearby box. "You shouldn't be alone forever. Just… just think about it. If you're willing to let this, perhaps your one chance of happiness, pass you by… then you don't deserve her."

With that, he left.

* * *

Professor McGonagall had tried everything, but Hermione was adamant. She'd had an offer from the Ministry; a good offer. Not as good, nor anywhere near as enticing, as the prospect of apprenticing with her beloved head of house; but she didn't have a choice. She couldn't stay here; and in the real world, the only way for her to get ahead, to make any kind of living, was to work at the Ministry of Magic.

The Transfiguration teacher, upon hearing this, went and found Professor Snape, who was brooding in his dungeons.

"You!" she shouted at him. He jumped where he sat, but then slumped back down in his armchair.

"What about me?"

"It's your fault she's leaving!"

"She would have left anyway, now that she has graduated." His voice was as empty and soulless as he felt.

"Well, she might have accepted the apprenticeship had you not behaved so atrociously towards her."

"It doesn't matter now."

"Oh, doesn't it just? And I suppose you know that she's going to work at the Ministry? In the magical sports division?"

"Magical sports?" He snorted. "She'll hate that."

"And she'll be working with Ronald Weasley," Professor McGonagall continued. "You know he's always fancied her. Still, I suppose he's a better match for her," she mused, watching her friend's face out of the corner of her eyes. It flashed with fury.

"No, he isn't," he whispered harshly, gripping the arms of his chair.

"Do _you_ consider yourself a better choice?" she asked.

"I love her!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. He looked shocked at his exclamation. She, however, had been briefed by the headmaster, and was unsurprised. She simply waved it off.

"Well, that hardly matters, since you won't go near her," she said. "It's a good thing the students are leaving today, isn't it?"

Professor Snape looked lost, and finally nodded, sighing. "It's best for her."

"Wha… why are you giving up, boy? Oh, for Merlin's… She'll be underneath your favourite tree, by the lake. That's where she's been sitting recently, staring into space. No doubt dreaming of an impossible future with an even more impossible man!" She looked at him significantly, and swept from the room.

The potions master's heart pounded, and he looked around frantically.

There it was.

* * *

Hermione was moping. She stayed away from the students, since they just didn't understand her feelings for their professor—well, in the case of the seventh years, former professor—and they reminded her too much of classes; and, by the same token, him.

She stood, and was about to return to the castle when she saw the man of her thoughts approaching. She resumed her trek up the hill, and met him halfway.

"Hello," she said quietly, looking at her clasped hands.

"Hermione…"

"Don't you mean 'Miss Granger'?"

"No," he said, his hands behind his back. "I mean 'Hermione'."

"If you'll excuse me," she said, "I must return to the castle. I have to send my bags down."

"No," he insisted, and he grabbed her arm. "Please, hear me out."

"Fine. What is it, Professor?"

"I'm sorry I behaved so badly at the ball," he whispered. "And I love you." She looked up, tears building in her eyes. "And… it's 'Severus', if you don't mind." He pulled her close with the one hand, and produced the stirring rod with the other. He traced Hermione's left arm with it, and she shivered when it touched her bare skin. He pressed the stick into her hand, and she accepted it. Meeting his eyes again, she flew into his arms, and silently vowed never to leave them again.

**

* * *

**

This is clearly a sequel (of sorts) to the first chapter, and possibly comes between the first two. There were two votes for "Ever After", and only one for "Edward Scissorhands"; sorry, alannalove1990!

**Anyway, applause to Potioness for the proposal scene prompt! I wasn't planning for it to go that long, but I wanted a reason for an argument between them (weak though it was), and the slipper equivalent. Then it sort of went from there. I hope you don't mind that it was so long today.**

**I've picked two choices for the next chapter:**

**Finding Nemo**

**The First Wives Club**

**However, the other 'F' DVDs I have, just in case you're dissatisfied, are:**

**Fairytale: a True Story**

**Fire Over England**

**Fly Away Home**

**Freedom Writers**

**Frost/Nixon**

**The Fugitive**


	6. Finding Nemo

"Finding Nemo"

"Mummy!"

"Yes, James?" Hermione called up the stairs of Grimmauld Place. Her youngest son came pelting down the stairs—or, at least, as much as he could pelt in his Halloween costume. It had been twelve years since Sirius had proposed, and they had married a few months later. Twelve years in Number Twelve. It was going to be a magical Halloween.

"Dad's completely ruined everything!" James said, and he burst into tears.

Or maybe not so magical, Hermione thought.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked, squatting down in front of him.

"I-it's his c-costume. H-he's ruined it."

"What did he do?"

They heard a creak at the top of the stairs, and looked up. James began to cry all over again when he saw his father, and ran into the downstairs bathroom, locking himself in. Sirius hurried down the stairs, and Hermione saw the problem as he came into the light. She began to giggle, and had to cast the Muffliato Charm so that their children and guests wouldn't hear.

"What?" her husband asked, turning around. He was wearing a fish costume; white on the front, and black on the back, with a fin on the back and a long, pointy 'nose' on tope. "I thought that a black marlin would be more appropriate than a blue one, what with our last name being 'Black' and all. What did I do wrong, `Mione?"

"Oh dear," she said, now wiping her own tears—tears of laughter—away. "Oh, I knew I should have forced you to come to the film with us. You really should have used logic, Sirius. Marlin isn't actually a marlin; he's a clownfish."

"That explains why James is in orange and white," he replied, scratching his head. "But why is Nemo's father called Marlin if he's a clownfish?"

"It doesn't matter," his wife said, and she held onto his arm as she stood. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, removed the Muffliato, and called James out into the hallway. His face was all splotchy and red, and he sniffed loudly. "James, sweetie. Mummy can just Transfigure Daddy's costume. Watch."

She waved her wand, and Sirius' outfit changed before their very eyes. James went wide-eyed with wonder, and broke out into a huge grin when his father finally looked the part. He grabbed onto 'Marlin's' hand, and began pulling him to the living room. Hermione followed, hearing oohs and ahs from the guests as they saw the father and son enter the room.

It was going to be a magical Halloween after all.

**

* * *

**

This came to me while I was in the shower, pondering over this story. There were different directions I could have taken for this chapter; but I decided that this one would work quite well, despite the fact that I'm probably disappointing Snanger fans out there.

**So this story is clearly a continuation from Chapter Four, "Dracula". Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Choices for next chapter are:**

**Galaxy Quest**

**The Ghost & Mrs. Muir**

**The Gondoliers**

**Great Expectations**

**Gypsy**

**I've had a request from alannalove1990 to do "Gone With the Wind"; but since I've never seen it, and it's not part of my DVD collection, I can't do that. But I plan to use the last line in the story, so please bear this in mind when making your selections. And you may request plot summaries from me, if you choose.**


	7. Galaxy Quest

"Galaxy Quest"

"We need your help!"

"What?" Daniel asked. He glanced briefly at Rupert, who was standing next to him. They were lounging around behind the building along with other former cast members of the Harry Potter films. Currently, they were looking at a group of young people, led by a boy who had black hair and green eyes.

"We need you to come and help us," the young man repeated. "There's a dark wizard who has come to Hogwarts, to try and take over. And without you there…" He trailed off, looking at his companions, whose hair colour ranged from blonde to black, and eyes from blue to brown.

"Hog… Hogwarts?" Emma said, and she laughed. "Brilliant. That's really good. But we're done playing those characters now."

"Characters?" one of the red-headed girls said. "Oh, come on, Mum. We've been looking for…"

"Wait, wait, wait!" she exclaimed, raising her hands. "I'm not your mother. I'm Emma Watson."

"No," said another girl. "You're Hermione Weasley."

"I'm… I _played_ that character in the movies."

"We're just actors," Alan told them. The older cast members had broken off their conversation to listen.

"P-professor Snape," the blonde boy whispered. "But… you're dead."

"I'm not Severus Snape…"

"That's a great cover," the first boy said, pushing his glasses up his the bridge of his nose. "But come on, Dad," he continued, returning his attention to Daniel.

"Wha…"

"It's me, Al," he said. He looked hurt. "Don't you remember me?"

"It doesn't matter, Potter," the blonde said. "We need their help. They may be willing to abandon their children, but surely not the rest of the wizarding world? This bloke's the worst thing since Voldemort."

"I was named after you," Albus said, looking wide-eyed at Alan. "You and Professor Dumbledore."

"This is preposterous," Maggie muttered. The rest of the Muggle actors and actresses nodded in agreement.

"But he does look like Harry Potter," Tom said.

"I know I look like my father, okay?" Albus said, waving his arms around.

"Don't yell at my dad!" Scorpius said angrily. "Look, we know you've probably taken some kind of de-ageing potions, and decided to hang out in the Muggle world, but you've all got responsibilities to return to. And no amount of this… rubber surgery will disguise you from your own children."

"Plastic surgery," Emma corrected.

"You never change, do you, Mum?" one of the redheads remarked.

"We'll leave this Portkey with you," Albus said, stepping forward, and he placed a large cloth bag on the ground in front of Daniel. He opened it, and removed the broken head of a Nimbus 2000. The Muggles all stepped back, and he left it on the ground, simply taking back the bag before he stood again. "It'll only activate when all of you are holding it. And don't worry. Mr. Ollivander will provide you with wands if you've gotten rid of yours. And… it's great to see you alive, Professor Snape," he added to Alan. "Dad must have been really glad when he found out. Well. Bye."

"Bye," the others echoed, and they all Apparated away.

It took many minutes for the Muggles to pull themselves together.

"They…" Rupert said. He cleared his throat, and started again. "They just… disappeared."

"That isn't good," Bonnie remarked, glancing at the others. "They were serious, weren't they?"

"Oh, Jo has a _lot_ to answer for!" Mark said.

"I'm calling her right now," Julie told her on-screen husband, mobile at her ear.

"We can't do anything to help them," Emma said, beginning to fret. "Oh, this is crazy. They can't be serious."

"I think they can," Daniel said, and he gingerly picked up the broom head. "What the hell do we do?"

* * *

Meanwhile, using Extendable Ears, Harry Potter, surrounded by his friends and family, listened in amusement to the conversation that was still carrying on, as the Muggles worked out what to do next. They couldn't wait to see whether the latest WWW product would work. No, it wasn't a Portkey. But as soon as they all touched it, the head of the broom would turn into something akin to a Howler, and announce that they had been 'Weasleyed'.

And if the Ministry of Magic didn't descend on them, they would know that Hermione Snape's new Disguising Charm had worked. Not the kind of Glamours that she and Severus had put on their children for the purposes of this exercise, but something that would allow magic to happen around Muggles without being reported to the Ministry.

That'd teach JK Rowling to write insane things about their world. Why, Lord Voldemort was only the stage name of Tom Riddle, the leader of the wizard band The Death Eaters.

Oh well. You couldn't be right all the time. And he _did_ insist on going around with that weird snake-mask on.

"Just asking for trouble there," Hermione said, and Severus snorted. He'd been using Legillimancy on his wife, as per usual. "What?"

"I'm glad you're not a Weasley," he whispered into his wife's ear. "Now, come on. Let's go home. We can view a Pensieve of what happened later. You've done the work; they can conduct the experiment without you."

"But… don't you want to see their faces when the broom…"

"Frankly, my dear," he said, as he spun them to their home in Hogsmeade, "I don't give a damn."

**

* * *

**

This started out as something else, and then became… well, this. Like? Dislike? It's kind of a nod to those annoying people who say 'write what you know'. Whoever found success doing that? Agatha Christie? Was she a criminal, or a crime-solver? JK Rowling? Is she a witch, or a Squib, or something?

**There is **_**nothing **_**wrong with imagination!**

**I had to go with the first vote, because I only had two. Please raise the tallies this time, peoples! Otherwise there'll be long delays like this, while I debate over the ethics of choosing for myself, or going with the first suggestion made.**

**Three main options for the next chapter:**

**Hairspray**

**The Harvey Girls**

**HMS Pinafore**

'**Lesser' options are:**

**Hamlet (Kenneth Branagh & Laurence Olivier)**

**Hans Christian Anderson**

**Heidi**

**The Holiday**

**Hoodwinked**

**Hook**


	8. Hairspray

"Hairspray"

The final battle would soon take place. Most of the castle had been blocked off, so that only the Entrance Hall and Great Hall could be used, and the area between Hogwarts and the gates to the school. Charms had been set in place so that anyone who entered had to stay. That way, no Death Eaters could escape; not even the Dark Lord could escape. Of course, that meant that no one from the Light could leave, either. But the showdown had to happen, and it had to happen tonight.

It wouldn't be long now. People were wishing each other good luck, and saying goodbye, just in case… well, just in case. Someone had started singing awhile ago, and it was catching. Dusk was setting in, and silence fell. But only temporarily. For then Dean Thomas began to sing.

"_There's a light in the darkness,_

_Though the night is black as my skin_."

Seamus joined him.

"_There's a light burning bright_

_Showing me the way;_

_But I know where I've been_."

The song caught on, and others began to sing with them.

"_There's a cry in the distance;_

_It's a voice that comes from deep within._

_There's a cry asking why._

_I pray the answer's up ahead._

_Yeah. `Cause I know where I've been_."

Those who fought in the first war took over the singing.

"_There's a road we've been travellin',_

_Lost so many on the way._

_But the riches will be plenty,_

_Worth the price, the price we had to pay_."

The younger generation resumed singing, led by Hermione.

"_There's a dream in the future,_

_There's a struggle that we have yet to win._

_And there's pride in my heart,_

_`Cause I know where I'm going._

_Yes, I do!_

_And I know where I've been._

_Yeah_."

The gates were being beaten down, and the voices strengthened as the people gathered together, prepared to fight to the death for a better world.

"_There's a road (there's a road)_

_We must travel (we must travel)._

_There's a promise (there is a promise)_

_We must make (that we must make)._

_But the riches (oh, but the riches)_

_Will be plenty (the riches will be plenty),_

_Worth the risk (worth the risk)_

_And chances that we take (and the chances that we)._

_There's a dream, yeah yey yeah,_

_In the future._

_There's a struggle that we have yet to win._

_Use that pride in our hearts_

_To lift us up until tomorrow,_

_`Cause just to sit still would be a sin._"

The Death Eaters were now drawing closer, and the Light could almost hear the distant echoes of the younger students, tucked far away in safety.

"_I know it, I know it,_

_I know where I'm going_…"

Wands were drawn.

"_Lords know I know where I've been_."

The two sides faced each other, and the Light finished their song, their confidence renewed.

"_Oh! When we win,_

_I'll give thanks to my god,_

_`Cause I know where I've been_."

**

* * *

**

Just an alternate start to the final battle. Wouldn't it have been cool had they been singing? Ah well. Maybe they'll surprise us, and burst into a patter song in the final movie. What do you reckon?

**No choice now for a few chapters. I've already got the next chapter worked out, based on a plot bunny that hopped into my head, replacing the original idea with something much better. I hope you agree. Mummy thought it was funny. I'm willing to allow you to guess what the next film is, but I ain't giving anything away. But it's going to be Hermione/Severus.**

**The results of the voting, in case you're wondering, are:**

**Hairspray (5)**

**Hook (4)**

**Heidi (2)**

**Hamlet (2)**

**I own neither Harry Potter (I know; still!), nor do I own any part of **_**Hairspray**_**, except the DVD, the soundtrack, and a programme from the stage version we saw in London.**


	9. In Her Shoes

"In Her Shoes"

Asking Ron Weasley for wooing advice perhaps wasn't the smartest thing Severus could have done. Yes, the redhead knew Hermione well, having been one of her best friends during their years at Hogwarts. But he also happened to fancy her as well, only she had told him that she thought of him as a brother.

So when their former professor asked about what Hermione would appreciate most as a present, Ron told him to buy her shoes.

"Honestly," he said, scratching his head. "Hermione's got basically every book, and she'll think you've just gone for the obvious if you buy her something like that."

"It would be too impersonal?" Severus asked, his anxiety about finding the perfect gift clouding his intellect. "So you really think that a pair of shoes…"

"Absolutely. Something with high heels. She's got height issues, and you're so tall." He didn't go for anything more outrageous and un-Hermione-ish, in case the potions master should catch on, and probably hex him.

"Thank you," he said, and he hurried off. He'd get her the nicest pair he could get.

What Ron didn't know was that there were a range of shoes that were due to be released within the next couple of weeks. Pre-orders couldn't be placed, because all the witches in London were going crazy over them. They were Auto-Adjust, Self-Transfiguring Shoes, which would become whatever size, colour, material, and style the witch wanted. They could only be changed three times—couldn't bankrupt other shoe companies, after all—before they either had to be taken in to get renewed (for a price) or a new pair had to be purchased.

Understandably, they were expensive, and weren't to be released before the due date.

However, he wasn't Professor Severus Snape for nothing.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in The Three Broomsticks, keeping an eye on the students in her charge that Hogsmeade weekend. She felt the familiar shiver when the dungeon bat entered the pub, and she turned with a smile. He was carrying a rather large bag, and shuffled towards her. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looked shy. Of course, he had been behaving strangely towards her since she began teaching, but she thought it was because he was no longer the youngest member of staff.

"Professor Granger," he said, taking the stool next to her.

"Hello, Professor Snape," she said, saluting him with her butterbeer.

"What'll you have, Severus?" Rosmerta asked as she moved down the bar towards the two teachers.

"Same as Hermione."

"Right-o!"

"'Hermione'?" she whispered, and he winced.

"Well, you keep insisting that I use your name. Now I've used it. Happy?"

"A little," she said, grinning. "Severus."

"Very well," he said, smirking. "Cheers." They toasted each other silently, and drank in silence for some time. Finally, he placed his finished drink on the counter, and dropped a few coins beside it for Rosmerta. Then he turned to Hermione, who was looking a bit down. When she saw that he hadn't left, she seemed to brighten as she smiled up at him.

"Having a good day so far, Severus?" she asked.

"I… I wanted to, uh… ask you if…" He pulled her over to a booth where they wouldn't be observed, and made sure they were both sitting before he withdrew the shoebox. "This is the gift I have to give you."

"Give me? But Christmas was a few months ago…"

"No, a c-courting gift. The offering a wizard makes to the witch that he desires to court," he said, trying to ignore the way her jaw dropped open. He pushed the box across the table to her. "Uh, for you. Will you go out with me tonight? Dinner, here? I can clear it with Albus…"

"These… these are for me?" Hermione whispered, gazing into the box. "Severus…"

He didn't know what made him say it. Maybe he was worried that they weren't good enough, and just compensated with humour.

"Hermione," he said seriously, "these shoes are solely yours."

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she started to giggle as her gaze wandered back to the present. Her giggles grew, and she had to cover her mouth to try and muffle them. Severus felt his heart sinking, and readied himself to leave. She could keep the bloody shoes.

"'Solely' mine. You know," she said, her voice tight with suppressed laughter, "that's one of the things that I love most about you, Severus. What attracted me to you in the first place."

"W-what's that?" he asked, wondering if he had misinterpreted the situation.

"Your biting humour," she said, smiling up at him.

"Wait a moment… you said 'love'."

"Y-yes." Her smile dropped, but then she regained it quickly. "But you want to court me, so it's all right if I'm already in love with you, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. It certainly does make things go faster." He grinned, causing a few nearby students to scream, and run from the pub. But he didn't notice. He felt like doing a dance.

So maybe asking Ron Weasley for advice hadn't been such a terrible idea after all.

**

* * *

**

I've been in a strange mood lately where I make a lot of dreadful jokes involving subtle wordplay, usually based around puns. For example, here's a dare for all of you:

**Next time you're in a kitchenware store, ask a salesperson how much you have to 'fork out' for a cutlery set.**

**Please review, and tell me how it went, if you're Gryffindor enough to try. *Winks***


	10. Jumanji

"Jumanji"

"C'mon, Kingsley," Tonks said, poking about the junk room. "Look, here's a board game. How harmful can that be?"

"Tonks, there's a reason for these things being put in here," he said, amused nonetheless by her enthusiasm.

"Oh, please," she said dismissively. "Alastor Moody contributed to the storage of half of this stuff, and you _know _how paranoid he is. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" she shouted, and Kingsley jumped, nearly dropping the lamp he was looking at. He rolled his eyes.

"I know you're bored, but can't you just do something constructive?"

"Such as what? Paperwork?" She snorted. "It's called a 'bored' game for a reason. Look, let's just call this… curse-checking," she said, holding up the box. "Jumanji. What do you say? What could possibly go wrong, Kingsley?"

He sighed. "How do we play?"

* * *

When they were setting up the game in the middle of the Auror's office, Tonks fiddled with two of the playing pieces. She dropped them down onto the board, just as Kingsley was examining the dice. He dropped them as the two marks snapped into place. One of them started to move, and words formed in the centre of the board. They looked at each other, Tonks grinning, Kingsley frowning, and then they read the words.

"Wha… something about poisonous plants, which shoot barbs," Tonks said. "Well, what happens now?"

There was a scream as green, leafy tendrils began to spring out of the walls. People started shooting spells, and purple blooms began to form on the thick stems. One opened, and Dawlish dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding a barb that sprung from one of the flowers.

Just then, some of Hogwarts' recent graduates walked into the Auror office. Neville Longbottom was among them, and he sent a special herbologists' severing charm at the plant. With that, the flora started to wither away, and everyone sighed in relief.

"Tonks," Kingsley said, his voice deceptively calm, "maybe this would be a good time to put away the game?"

"Uh… or maybe not," she said, pointing at one side of the board. "It says that the only way to finish the game is if someone reaches the centre, and says 'Jumanji'."

"And how long will that take?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"With things like that happening, five seconds is ten seconds too long," someone growled. It was Moody, who was visiting the office as well.

"Ugh, let's just get this over with," Kingsley said, and he rolled the dice.

He had just finished reading the message when water appeared out of nowhere, flooding the office. Ron began to Summon brooms from the Magical Games and Sports Division.

"Gah!" Moody shouted, and he sent a spell underwater. He hobbled over to a chair, which he levitated once he was seated. He examined his wet wooden leg, and growled. "It's bloody well been bitten almost clean through!"

"Piranhas!" another person shouted, and before long, everyone was up in the air, Tonks having rescued the game and the dice. She sat atop a desk beside Kingsley, who was glaring at her.

"Uh… shall we continue?" she asked meekly.

* * *

Anyone looking at the Auror department from a distance would have been astounded, and could have easily mistaken it for Arthur Weasley's division. Among brief periods of 'calmness'—where one or the other had to miss a turn—the area was besieged by various horrors. Wild vines sprung out of the floor, a giant crocodile and a giant snake terrorised the workers. Monkeys played havoc with stationery. Hyenas swam about in the flood that wasn't shifting, no matter the spells cast upon it. Tarantulas, while nowhere near as scary as a single Acromantula, still had to be Stunned.

Further incidents included a twister running through, which somehow managed to tear open the door, trailing behind the water and piranhas as they flowed out. The crocodile followed, and a memo was sent to the Minister, to make sure that he'd stay in his office. They got a reply saying that the ceiling was falling down in some places of various floors, and asking what in Hades was going on.

"This is all your fault, Nymphadora!" Moody said, still floating on his chair, trying to repair his wooden leg.

Finally, they were at the point where both players were close to the end, but they had to roll the exact number to finish. In their numerous attempts, they released a hippopotamus and a rhinoceros before Kingsley finally rolled a three.

"Jumanji!" he read, triumphant. Everything started to swirl, the tornado and floo being sucked back in, the bodies of the spiders, the vines and flowers, and the animals who had been 'produced'… all were returned to the centre of the game, leaving quite a mess behind.

"Well," Harry said, scratching his head at the devastation. "Let's hope there were no Ministry workers inside that crocodile. There's no way we can possibly risk getting them back."

"We'll do a headcount at the end of the day," Kingsley said, sliding down from the desk where he and Tonks had been perched. "Meanwhile, this is going _back_ into that room."

"Agreed," Tonks said, her hair turning a sombre dark purple.

_

* * *

_

273 years later…

"Hey, Sirius!"

"What's up, Ted?"

"Check out this board game. Wanna play?"

Teddy Lupin III held up a box with 'Jumanji' on the front, showing it to his best friend, and fellow Auror, Sirius Potter IV.

"Sure! Looks fun…"

**

* * *

**

Next chapter… again, you don't get a choice. I'm afraid I only have the one film starting with 'K'. Care to guess what it is?

**Please review!**

**This game was based on one that I played with my toy cat for the purposes of writing this story. She, as Kingsley, won.**


	11. Kate & Leopold

"Kate & Leopold"

Hermione loved her husband. Dearly. But he could be so… nit-picky when it came to the movies they watched. He only did it with children's films and romantic comedies. Unfortunately, this was the majority of their viewing.

"I'm telling you, darling, it's full of holes!"

"Even though we know that time travel isn't impossible?" Hermione asked. "Come now, Severus. It's just a story."

"They could at least get the facts right," he said, crossing his arms as he grumbled. "I mean, this duke person is from 1876, correct?"

"Yes."

"So who, in the modern world, told him about _The Pirates of Penzance_ and _La Bohéme_? When would he have had time to see either of them performed?"

"What's your point, love?" she asked, snuggling closer to him, so that he had to uncross his arms to hold her.

"My point _is_ that William Schwenk Gilbert, Arthur Seymour Sullivan…"

"Initials A-S-S," Hermione said, and she giggled. Severus scowled.

"…and Giacomo Puccini _all_ died in the twentieth century, and the operas weren't around until after the Duke of Albany went into the future!" He waved his free arm to emphasise his point, before bringing it back to pinch the bridge of his nose. "And the lift. Come now, the _lift_…"

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and watch the damn movie."

**

* * *

**

To clear things up, Gilbert and Sullivan wrote "The Pirates of Penzance" (see my story "G&S" for details), and Puccini wrote the music for "La Bohéme". When it comes to operas, it's the composer whose name is most prominent, rather than the folks who write the libretto.

**Here's a timeline:**

**1857—the first Otis passenger elevator was installed in NYC;**

**1876—the Duke travels forward in time;**

**1879—"The Pirates of Penzance" premieres on the 31****st**** of December;**

**1896—"La Bohéme" premieres on the 1****st**** of February;**

**1900—Arthur Sullivan dies on the 22****nd**** of November;**

**1911—William Gilbert dies on the 29****th**** of May;**

**1924—Giacomo Puccini dies on the 29****th**** of November.**

**Anyway! The next post will be the first chapter of a cross-over fic that I want to write, and have wanted to write for some time. Consider it… a preview.**

**Review, review, review, please!**


	12. Labyrinth

"Labyrinth"

"You have been given detention for a reason, Mr. Ackroyd," Severus said. "You caused seven cauldrons to be melted through a foolish and dangerous prank. Something you heard about from one of your friends?"

"Yeah, but it didn't make _that_ happen," Denny said, scuffing the floor of the dungeons with his right sneaker.

"This was a far more volatile potion than the one that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley destroyed in their second year, with only a third-rate firework," he said, his anger growing. "You are fortunate indeed that I happen to retain _very_ quick reflexes, and was able to stop the explosion from furthering. Otherwise the entirety of the dungeons would have been obliterated, and all in the name of a _practical joke_!"

Denny pulled back a few steps, scared almost witless.

"Severus?" Mrs. Snape called, and she walked into her husband's study. "Oh, hello, Mr. Ackroyd. Heard you nearly made me a widow."

"Did you wish to speak with me, Hermione?"

"Yes, please. It will only take a minute."

"Fine, fine. Wait here," he said, scowling at Denny, before following his wife from the room. While the young Hufflepuff waited, a small girl with curly black hair and big, dark-brown eyes walked in. Three-year-old Amalea Snape was looking for her parents, and she frowned when she saw the older boy.

"You're the one who's got detention all weekend, aren't you?" she asked. The daughter of two extremely intelligent parents, Amalea spoke well, and had a rapidly-increasing vocabulary, thanks to her voracious appetite for the written word.

"S'what if I am?" Denny said, crossing his arms. As the oldest person in the room, he was feeling tremendously empowered; a fourth year up against a toddler. He revelled in the sensation.

"Daddy wants you to be expelled," she said, taking a step forward.

Denny snorted. "And?"

"If I had a wand, I'd challenge you to a duel."

"I've got a better idea," he said. "You know that movie your mother forced us all to watch in Muggle Studies last term? How would you like to see if it's fact or fiction?"

"What do you mean?" Amalea asked, stepping back nervously. Her voice was starting to shake, and so were her hands. "What…"

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now," Denny said, and he laughing evilly, trying to frighten the little girl.

Instead, he nearly wet his pants when the candles were all extinguished, and he heard the scuffling of many light feet. There was a muttered curse from the room next door, and someone cast a spell to make the lights flare up again.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, looking around. Severus frowned at the young student.

"Why did you put the lights out?" he asked, striding over.

"I d-didn't, P-professor Snape. Honest."

"'Honestly'," the Muggle Studies professor corrected. She glanced around the room. "I'd better go and tell Amalea to wait in her room until we're done here."

"Uh…" Denny said, his gaze dropping to the floor. The Snapes closed in on him.

"What happened?" Severus asked softly, coal eyes glinting.

"Well, you see… I didn't think it'd actually work… and it probably hasn't…"

"_What_ hasn't worked?"

"Uh…"

"Use Legillimancy on him, Severus."

"Now you wish me to be unethical, my dear?"

"When it concerns the possible disappearance of my daughter, yes!"

"Fine," he said, and he forced Denny to look him in the eye. He muttered, "Legillimens," and saw—and heard—what had transpired. He was paler than usual when the spell ended, and he could hardly speak. Finally, he looked at the boy. "Tell Professor Dumbledore _precisely_ what happened. Give him a Pensieve memory if you have to."

There came a knocking, and the potions master pushed the boy to the fireplace. Denny flooed to the headmaster's quarters, while Hermione went for the door.

"No!" Severus hissed, and he pulled her back. "Hermione, go to our bedroom. Find my address book. Look up Sarah Williams; she's my aunt. Tell her that I'm going after Amalea. She may be able to help."

"Hang on… Sarah Will…"

"My father was _Toby_. Tobias Williams. Find my Aunt Sarah. Go!" She obediently ran out of the study, just as the door opened on its own, admitting the Goblin King.

"Good evening," he said, tilting his head. "I believe a child was wished away."

"My daughter," Severus said. "I wish to run the labyrinth to get her back. I'm aware of the dangers."

"Yes; that movie," Jareth said, tapping his ornate riding crop against his left thigh. "But the _real_ perils are far more terrifying than any movie could possibly convey."

"The boy who wished my daughter away is too young to have known what he was really doing, while cynical enough to believe that it wouldn't work. He is of no relation to her. It was in retaliation to a punishment that I, as his teacher, was bestowing upon him."

"But he was the one who did the wishing," Jareth said. "Do you really desire to run the labyrinth?"

"I do."

"Very well then." The goblin king dropped a crystal, and he and Severus vanished from the room, just as Hermione re-entered, having found the floo address. She had only ever heard of her husband's 'crazy Aunt Sarah'. Now she was about to find out why she had isolated herself from the rest of the world so many decades ago.

"House of Sarah Williams," she said, and the fireplace swallowed her up.

The fireplace at the other end spewed her onto the floor. She dragged herself to her feet, shaking off the soot as best she could.

"Who's there?" a voice, hoarse from disuse, whispered.

"My name is Hermione Snape," she said, approaching a darkened corner. "My husband is Severus Snape, son of Tobias… well, as I've learned this evening, Tobias Williams."

"Toby." A lamp was turned up, and Hermione gasped. Seated before her was a young woman, surely no older than Denny, with long brown hair and a haunted expression.

"Who are you?"

"I… I am Sarah Williams."

**

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**

This is the preview for the Harry Potter/"Labyrinth" crossover fic that I would like to write, as mentioned in my previous posting. Sorry it's been a bit of a cliffhanger ending; but perhaps this is good advertising for the story. I hit on something? Yes? No?

**Please review!**


	13. Meet Me In St Louis

"Meet Me In St. Louis"

Only a few weeks remained before they were due to move to Ireland, for Sirius' work. The children were against it, and Hermione felt the same way. But nothing could be done about it; and there was no denying that he always hated his childhood home, though less so in recent years. After all, with a family to fill it, and the hateful 'decorations' from before gone, the original Number Twelve was all but gone from his memory.

December twenty-fourth, the children weren't gobbling down their breakfast as they usually did at Christmas. After all, this was their last Christmas in London, aside from the various trips they would make to visit friends and family.

"Aren't you feeling hungry, James?" Hermione asked, looking at her son with concern. He was picking at his cereal, and looked up at her.

"Not really," he said, and he pushed his bowl away. Sirius, still completely oblivious, smiled at his wife.

"Probably just making sure that he'll have enough room for Christmas lunch tomorrow." He winked at her. "Remember when he had stomach ache last year?"

"Yes, dear," Hermione said. But she knew that that wasn't the reason.

Selena, the youngest at two, was chewing mournfully on her toast. She had picked up on the feelings of her brothers and sisters, and particularly her mother. The holiday season just didn't seem to lift the mood at all.

When she bit into her breakfast at one particular angle, the toast flipped up and hit her on the nose. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and the food fell out. Sirius laughed, and picked up a napkin.

"Come on, Lady Marmalade," he said, swiping the orange spread off her face. She squirmed a bit, and sneezed. Her father chuckled, and finished cleaning her up. "I've got a few owls to send, but I'll try not to be too long. Thank you, Kreacher," he added as the house elf appeared, and began to clean up. He was much kinder to his old servant since he fell for Hermione, and decided to do everything he could to please her.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said, and Sirius gave her a quick peck before leaving the room. They heard his feet pounding up the stairs. "Well, children?" They looked at her. "Brush your teeth, and then why don't we go and sing Christmas songs in the living room?"

"Yes, Mummy," they said, and they trudged off. Hermione sighed, and went to the master bedroom. She finished getting ready herself, brushed her teeth, and went back downstairs. She sat at the piano that Sirius had bought her for their first anniversary. She had expressed an interest in learning to play, so he had paid for lessons, and then purchased a black baby grand as a present.

"What are you going to play, Mummy?" Minnie asked, carrying Selena into the room. Their other siblings trailed in after them. Hermione flipped open her Christmas songbook.

"How about…?" She blindly placed a finger on a page, and looked at the title. "'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas'."

The children nodded, and sat down around the piano stool. They knew the words to all the songs in the book.

"_Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light._

_From now on our troubles will be out of sight._

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the yuletide gay._

_From now on, our troubles will be miles away._"

Sirius heard the singing, and decided to join his family after all. So he began to creep down the stairs.

"_Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore._

_Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more._"

But when he saw his family sitting at the piano, he found himself so in love with the picture that he stayed where he was, hiding in the shadows.

"_Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow._

_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,_

_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now!_"

Sirius was about to begin clapping as the music died away, but he stopped when he heard Alice let out a sob, followed by Minnie, James, Johnny, and Selena. Hermione slumped over the keys, trying to control her own emotions. But the sound of her children weeping caused a few tears to make their way down her cheeks. She swivelled around on the stool, and held out her arms.

What was wrong with his family? He stayed hidden, listening.

"I wish we weren't leaving," Johnny said, burying his face in Hermione's right knee. Alice, Johnny's twin, was clinging to her mother's other knee. Minnie, the oldest, continued to cuddle Selena, and James clung onto her waist.

"I want to stay, too," Alice said, and she sniffled. "Why is Daddy making us leave?"

"I don't wanna go!" James said, and he wailed. He threw himself into his mother's arms.

"Shh," she said, stroking his back. "Just as long as we're all together, that's what matters most, isn't it? You wouldn't want Daddy to move away and be all by himself, would you?" They shook their heads. "There, you see? We don't want to make Daddy unhappy. He looks after us, and he loves us so very much. So don't cry. Don't cry."

Sirius pulled away, and walked down the hall. He collapsed onto the couch in the library, and dropped his head into his hands.

"Gods above," he whispered, "what have I done?" He looked up at the ceiling. This job… well, he had gotten used to this new Grimmauld Place. After being in Azkaban so long, family and friends were important to him, and he didn't want to leave now. But he had to take this job. He hated to touch the family fortune. Spending money that he actually earned was far more satisfying to him.

Oh, let's be honest. Even with five children, they didn't need for anything. It was his pride that had caused him to accept the promotion. Well, damn his pride!

Sending off a quick owl to his employers, he hurried back to the living room, and was relieved to see that his wife and children were still there, only now crowded together on an armchair that Hermione had clearly enlarged. He knocked on the doorframe, and was confronted by tear-stained faces. Hermione quickly swiped at her cheeks, but he held up a hand.

"Got any room for a fool?" he asked. She nodded, gaping, and wandlessly made the chair bigger. He squeezed in beside them. It hurt that his children wouldn't look at him, and even seemed to shuffle a few inches away. He drew a shaky breath, and looked at Hermione. She returned his look, brow crinkled in worry.

"What is it, Sirius?" she said.

"I, uh…" He cleared his throat. "I've decided that we won't move. We don't need the extra money. So… we're staying." He looked at his arm where it rested on the back of the chair, and saw Hermione's hand move to his. She squeezed it, and he looked at her. She gave him a watery smile, and they gazed at each other for what seemed like minutes. But they were interrupted by all five children suddenly leaping on their father, almost knocking the chair over. Sirius laughed as he was bombarded by hugs and kisses, and pulled his left arm around his children.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, and he winked at her.

**

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No Halloween-ing in this chapter. However, I suppose there's the whole Christmas thing going on.

**Anyway, I don't own "Meet Me In St. Louis" or any of the songs from it. For one thing, the film is 66 years old, and I'm only 21. Also, I'm Australian, not American, and therefore very unlikely to be related to anyone involved with the film.**

**I've got the next story plotted, but I shall need votes for the next chapter, and the one after that in a way. I'm fine with 'Q' and 'R'.**

**Gosh, we're halfway through this story now.**

**The 'Lady Marmalade' reference was for alannalove1990, who loves "Moulin Rouge".**


	14. Never Been Kissed

"Never Been Kissed"

Well, really. This was too much. There was no reason for him to have felt deceived, when she had betrayed him in no way, shape, or form. But that was Severus Snape. Paranoid to the last. Well, he may have had reason to be; but not with Hermione. Never with Hermione.

And now he really didn't believe in her feelings. To heck with that!

Angrily, she wrote him a letter. Deciding it was no good, she toned down her feelings, and wrote something completely different.

_Dear Severus,_

_I am so sorry that you feel as though I have lied to you. I would do anything to take back whatever happened to lose your trust. You must believe that I never wanted you to get hurt. At all._

_If you refuse to believe that, and least believe this: I think I am in love with you._

_Severus, if you feel the same way, please come and give me my first, real and true kiss on the Quidditch pitch in two days' time. I'll be waiting for five minutes beforehand. It's the last match of the year, as you know._

_Should you refuse to come and kiss me before the match commences, my humiliation will be complete. A fitting punishment, as it were, for someone you no doubt hate now._

_But I retain some little hope._

_Love,_

_Your Hermione._

* * *

The day of the match dawned far too sunny for Hermione's tastes. The weather was a cheerful as her mood was not. It seemed to be mocking her with its perfection. Ha!, it said. I'm bright, and you're dull. I have the love of many, and can outshine the stars. You can't even keep the love of one man, and you certainly don't outshine anyone.

"Bloody sun," she muttered, getting dressed.

The school was abuzz with the announcement that had gone out in the school newsletter. Reporters were going to be at the match, too. It wasn't every day that a professor of Hogwarts so openly declared her love for the headmaster, and especially the individuals in question. Severus Snape wasn't known for his affectionate nature—quite the opposite—and Hermione Granger was the complete antithesis to his personality. Light where he was dark, loved where he was hated, respected where he was feared.

Ten minutes before the match. Professor McGonagall and Ginny Potter came to speak to Hermione beforehand.

"You'll be fine," Ginny said, patting her friend on the back. "It's so romantic what you're doing. Everyone wants to be a part of it."

"It's bloody nerve-wracking, and a part of me wants to run away. The other part, however, tells me to buck up, be the Gryffindor I used to be. Before I went and lost my heart, and turned into a complete ninny. Over Headmaster Snape." She sighed, and trembled as Madame Hooch set the timer, ready for the countdown to start when Hermione activated it.

"He needed happiness, and you gave it to him," Minerva said. "He'd be a fool to pass that up. You're the sensible one, giving him another chance. What started this?"

"Bloody Ron sent me a letter declaring his undying love for me. Sorry, Ginny; but your brother's an absolute prat."

"I know," the redhead agreed, shrugging. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Anyway, Severus read it. And the way it was worded, he thought that there was something between us, or was about to be. His damn insecurities got in the way. I thought we had got past that…" She let out a sob. "But apparently not."

"Dry your tears," Minerva said, pulling out a handkerchief. "And pull yourself together. He'll be here. Judging by his reaction, he must love you. It would be of little sacrifice to his pride to come out here; and I know he wouldn't want you to suffer the embarrassment of being left alone out there."

"Ha," she said, swiping away the last of the tears. "I wouldn't be so damned sure. But thanks for your vote of confidence." She squared her shoulders. "I'm going to go out now. It's not like he has far to come. I just want to get this over with."

"I still can't believe you've never truly been kissed," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Boy, Hermione. You've been missing out on a lot. And you haven't even kissed Snape! Uh, sorry. Severus. Yet you've been courting for how long?"

"It's not like it was real courting. When would either of us have the time for that? No. This'll be my first proper kiss." She paused. "How depressing is that? It may not even happen! And if it isn't Severus… well, I wouldn't want to waste it on anyone else. It should belong to him. It _does_ belong to him."

Madame Hooch gave the Charms professor the signal, and she nodded back, before heading out onto the pitch. She looked around, and was astonished to see all the students yelling out their support, and even waving banners with slogans like 'Snanger Forever' and 'HG + SS = LOVE'. There was even one with a well-drawn picture of the two of them kissing. With no small amount of passion, come to that. She found herself blushing, and she signalled that the countdown begin.

* * *

She waited.

And waited.

And even waited, just to be different.

Finally, there remained only fifteen seconds left. Hermione turned to look at her friends, and shrugged, tears forming in her eyes.

I told you so, she thought, and she placed her full attention on the clock, as the numbers continued to go down.

Two.

One.

Nothing.

The crowd went quiet, and Hermione's wand dropped from her fingers. She could feel hysteria building. Determined to break down in private, she started to walk back to the gate, where Minerva and Ginny were standing, shocked. They had been so sure…

"Aargh!" Hermione screamed as she was scooped up into the air. Within seconds, she was high above the pitch, clutching onto the person who had had the audacity to witch-nap her like that. It wasn't until she heard the delighted roar of the crowd that she registered the black fabric in her hands. She looked up, and was stunned to see Severus.

"Did you really think I was going to have our first kiss in front of the media?" he asked, and he flew them down to the big 'study'-tree by the lake. He dropped the broom, and pulled her into his arms, where he proceeded to give her a very thorough first kiss.

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Aw. Sappy ending. Didn't mean for it to go on this long—do I ever?—but it just happened. So I hope you enjoyed it.

**Okay, I need some help with the next one. The only 'O' films that I have are as follows:**

**Ocean's Eleven (George Clooney version)**

**One Hundred and One Dalmatians (real people version)**

**One Hundred and Two Dalmatians (again, real people version)**

**I've got an idea for the 'P' story, but I'll still want input.**

**So please review!**


	15. One Hundred and One Dalmatians

"One Hundred and One Dalmatians"

It was all Professor Snape's fault, really. Well, maybe. He was certainly a contributing factor, at any rate. If he hadn't been criticising Professor Black's teaching style, none of this would have happened. Yes, perhaps the Transfiguration master was a bit lax when it came to his punishments, and the amount of work he assigned his students. So, when his old foe had challenged him on this, Sirius had set a series of very difficult tests for his students.

And it wasn't a joke, either. He was deadly serious—ha!—about the whole thing.

Professor Lupin, the DADA professor, found it dreadfully amusing; but then, he wasn't the one who had to sit the exams.

Even Hermione Granger thought the numerous pop quizzes unnecessarily difficult. Her assessment was enough to make the most studious Ravenclaw panic, never mind the lazier or less competent students. It was her seventh year, and Sirius and Remus had come to teach the previous year. Ever since then, she'd had a crush on Harry's godfather.

But she was peeved at the moment, and decided that some revenge, for the sake of her fellow students, was in order.

Harry was currently explaining Disney movies to Ron. Hermione was half-listening, when she heard him referring to _101 Dalmatians_. Dogs just reminded her of Sirius, and this problem.

"I guess you'd be seeing spots after watching it, huh?" Ron said. Hermione's eyes widened.

"That's it!" she shouted, startling everyone in the Gryffindor common room. "Oh. Sorry. Just thought of something, that's all."

"Clearly," Harry said, leaning forward. "What is it, Hermione?"

"A plan for revenge against Sirius," she said, eyes glinting. "He's been a prat lately. I think we can all agree on that." There was mass nodding and 'yeah'-ing. "Right. Well, this is my plan, which I think we should share with the other students, don't you?"

* * *

Hermione ran her idea by Headmistress McGonagall, who approved heartily. She was disappointed by her successor, who was also now the head of Gryffindor house. He needed to find some kind of middle-ground in his teaching, even though he still got good results with his relaxed methods. She intended to ask Hermione to apprentice in Transfiguration at the end of the year. The young woman would no doubt be able to moderate and mediate Sirius where needed.

The plan was spread around the school. All the students managed to keep it secret, since they were all sick of the trying exams. About half of the students in each house, some from each year level, would dress up, and the others would all swear that they didn't notice anything different. Professor McGonagall was going to let the rest of the staff know what was going on, except for Sirius. He would be kept in the dark.

The consensus among the students was that Hermione was 'bloody brilliant'.

"Ha," she muttered at breakfast on _the_ day. She was there early. A number of other students—both costumed and not—were there, but Sirius had yet to turn up. Remus was going to delay him until everyone else was in the Great Hall.

By the time they both showed up, all of the staff and students were seated, behaving normally. But Hermione kept an eye out for the professor's reaction. As the prank-creator, it was her prerogative to make sure that it was having the desired effect.

Sirius didn't seem to have noticed at that stage, though he glanced up a couple of times. Finally, his eyes narrowed, and he rubbed at them. He stared at the students, and Hermione smiled to herself, watching his gaze wander. When it neared the Gryffindor table, she resumed eating, until she felt sure that he wasn't looking any more.

However, when she looked at the staff table, she noticed his eyes flicker away from her at the last moment. She frowned, but kept studying his actions. He leaned towards Remus, and said something. Remus made a show of looking at the students, and then shaking his head. They spoke, and Sirius even consulted with other teachers, who copied Remus' actions. Finally, Professor McGonagall placed the back of her hand on his forehead, and Hermione choked back a laugh.

She couldn't wait for classes that day.

* * *

Fortunately, the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins had Double Transfiguration last period, but they heard some very funny stories from some of the younger students. So when they got to class, they were hoping to see more of the same.

But it seemed as though Sirius had twigged that something peculiar was going on; because as soon as Harry sat down, he asked to borrow his godson's glasses. Harry handed them over reluctantly, sending Hermione a funny look. When Sirius' back was turned, she shrugged at her green-eyed friend.

"Professor?" she called, raising her hand. Sirius turned around, glasses in place. He squinted at Hermione. She wasn't one of the ones in dalmatian costume, but Ron, Parvati, Seamus, Pansy, Draco, Goyle, and some others were. But Sirius didn't look at any of them. He instead focussed his (blurry) gaze on Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Why are you borrowing Harry's glasses, sir?"

"Surely it has come to your attention that there are students who look like spotted dogs?"

"No, sir."

"You wouldn't lie to _me_, would you? Hermione."

She swallowed, and shook her head. "Sir, if you want your own glasses, I could transfigure some for you. See?" She pulled out a quill from her bag, and tapped it, muttering some incantation. It changed into a pair of Dame Edna-esque spectacles, which she offered to her teacher. He glared at her, but removed Harry's glasses. He returned them, and picked up the ones that Hermione had created.

"Do you really suppose these might help?"

"Perhaps you should wait until dinner to try them out, Professor Black? As opposed to during class?"

"Hmm. Thanks. I'll do that." He pocketed the purple, glittery specs, and conducted the lesson as usual. In other words, they were given an awful exam. Harry didn't know whether or not he was grateful that his glasses were back.

* * *

Sirius was definitely suspicious. He refused conversation with the staff during the evening meal. There was Hermione. His eyes kept returning to her. He couldn't help it, even though he knew it was wrong. Minerva had sounded him out about making her his apprentice; an enticing idea. And yet it would delay his courting of her by a few years, since they certainly couldn't have a romantic relationship while he taught her in any capacity.

He decided to try on these ridiculous glasses she had given him. Something told him not to change their appearance. So he snapped them on over the bridge of his nose, pushing them back up to sit properly. He heard giggles from the students, but was more concerned with the fact that now all he could see were words:

_Padfoot, leave them kids alone_.

Sirius removed the glasses, and looked at the students thoughtfully. This time, Hermione was looking directly at him, and he felt the quiet of his fellow teachers as they all watched him, too. But his eyes never left Hermione's, as he simply nodded. She looked relieved, and smiled. He found himself smiling back. That smile grew when she blushed, so he winked at her.

"Feeling better, mate?" Remus asked. Sirius grunted. "That'd better be a 'yes', or the next prank won't be so kind."

"W-what?"

"It's all right, students!" Professor McGonagall called, having overheard their conversation, such as it was. "Professor Black is going to go easy now, aren't you?" She looked at him pointedly, and he merely nodded, struck dumb. "Good."

The students cheered, and all one hundred and one 'dalmatians' ran from the room to go and get out of their costumes.

"Clever girl, that Hermione," Remus said, drawing Sirius' attention.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, she's the one who organised it all," the headmistress told him. "Came up with the idea, ran it by me, made sure that all of the students were notified, developed the Transfiguration spell to create the dalmatian costumes—overnight, I may add—and even came up with the glasses she made for you in class. I trust she made them in class?"

"Yes."

"I think our `Mione has a bit of Marauder in her, don't you, Pads?" Remus said, grinning.

Sirius nodded, all the while thinking one thought:

If I have my way, she'll have more than just a _bit_ of Marauder in her…

**

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**

Innuendo there. Sorry.

**References: Dame Edna Everage is this famous housewife in Australia; and the words that Sirius saw are a reference to "Another Brick in the Wall".**

**Anyway, folks! I've got this terrific idea for the 'P' story, based on "The Parent Trap". Now, I own both the Hayley Mills and Lindsay Lohan versions on DVD, so which would you prefer? The plan is for something very AU, in that Lily Potter is still alive—only James died that night—and Harry wants to get her together with her old flame, Professor Snape.**

**However, if you'd prefer something else, here are your options:**

**The Pirates of Penzance**

**Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl**

**Playing Beattie Bow**

**Pretty Woman**

**Pride & Prejudice**

**None of the others can really be used, I feel. The other 'P' movies I own, I mean. These ones are really the only ones where I could possibly feel inspired.**

**Please vote!**


	16. Pirates of the Caribbean

"Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl"

"I still don't understand how you were able to come back to life," Hermione said to Sirius. Only a few months ago he had re-emerged from the Veil. They all thought that it had something to do with Bellatrix Lestrange's death; but he still shouldn't have returned, in theory. Hermione was living with him at Grimmauld Place at the moment, just the two of them.

"Well, Hermione, I'm not as innocent as you may think," he said, and he winked. She blushed. Of course he was anything but innocent. He had flirted with her when she was fifteen; seduced her when she was sixteen. They had picked up where they left off within hours of his return, sneaking away from the impromptu party Harry had thrown.

"So how did you manage it?"

In reply, Sirius drew out the chain from around his neck. Hermione shivered. Whenever he wore that necklace, it meant trouble for her. The pendant held a giant black pearl, presumably some family heirloom. He was always particularly lustful when wearing it, though only towards her.

"See this little beauty, my dear?" he said, and he moved closer to her on the love seat. A particularly appropriate name, since it was the place where Sirius had de-flowered her at midnight Christmas Eve/Christmas Day in her fifth year at Hogwarts. This was following a number of steamy letters from him, ones which she definitely never read at breakfast.

"I see it, Sirius," she said, moving into his lap.

"It holds magical powers."

"But you weren't wearing it when you fell through the Veil."

"No," he said. "I didn't need to be." His gaze drifted from her face, to his second-favourite part of her anatomy, just visible thanks to the low neckline of her red blouse. "The pearl only needed to exist." He ran the cool rock down her chest, and dipping below the button-up shirt. She shivered again.

"Why's that?"

"Just because."

"You know, Sirius," she gasped as his lips followed the pendant, "you're being deliberately evasive."

"One can hardly be _accidentally_ evasive, pet." Before she could speak again, he trapped her lips in a fierce kiss. Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head as he bent her over his arm, forcing her mouth open so that he could plunge his tongue into her depths. The hand holding the chain left the jewellery, and trailed down her body. When they broke apart for oxygen, Hermione resumed their conversation.

"Sirius, how could a black pearl bring you back? None of its magical properties…"

"This is no ordinary black pearl," he said, hand moving to the edge of her skirt. Hermione bit her bottom lip, and placed her hand over his, halting its progress. A dangerous glint passed through her lover's eyes.

"I need an answer," she said. He looked annoyed, but obliged her.

"This, my dear," he said, eyes indicating the pearl, "is my horcrux."

She gaped at him. "What? But that means that you've…"

"Not _all_ Death Eaters during Voldemort's first reign ever made it to Azkaban, you know."

"But you _split up your soul_! How could you do such a thing?"

"Hermione," he said, smiling, and holding her with a sudden strength, "surely you were tempted by the idea of immortality at some point? Someone as intelligent as you could see the advantages."

"It takes intelligence to see the _dis_advantages," she said, and she tried to wriggle out of his lap. "Let me go. You can't truly love me if you haven't got all your soul. You're… you're mad! Even before you went to Azkaban! This is the problem with in-breeding…"

"Ah, my _delicious_ little witch," Sirius said, a blue fire igniting his eyes as his arms stayed tight around her body. "I no longer need the horcrux. Something in the Veil changes a person, and believe me, my dear. We _will_ spend eternity together."

With that, he bore his fangs, and Hermione gasped when she saw them. "Sirius…"

"Say 'arr', my dear," he said, and she screamed as his pointed teeth pierced her flesh.

**

* * *

**

Whoa, this was dark. Naughty, naughty Sirius. Clearly, this isn't part of the other Hermione/Sirius storyline running through this fiction. I didn't say it in this chapter, but unlike Voldemort's horcruxes that cursed people, the black pearl instead increased Sirius' libido, since he's more lustful than hateful. I decided that the easiest way to make Hermione an immortal, and keep her with Sirius, was to make him a vampire. Therefore, he could 'turn' her, which he did.

**Sorry this wasn't much to do with "Pirates of the Caribbean", but it was the most popular one, and I couldn't think of something to do with it. I hope that having the black pearl and a magical necklace was enough, not to mention the 'arr' bit at the end. A play on the fact that Hermione is the daughter of dentists, and also a reference to pirates.**

**I need help with the next story! I've only got one 'q' movie, and that is "The Queen".**

**SO WHAT THE HECK DO I DO WITH THAT?**


	17. Queen, The

"The Queen"

It was all over the papers the next day:

_**GOLDEN GIRL AND RECLUSIVE SPY**_

_**DIE IN FLOOING ACCIDENT**_

In the days that followed, people mourned the loss of Hermione Weasley, both publicly and privately. Friends such as Harry and Ginny Potter, Luna Scamander, Neville and Hannah Longbottom, and so forth all mourned her privately, and put on brave faces in public.

Her husband and mother-in-law, however, were a different story.

"She must have been having an affair with Snape the whole time we were married," Ron told the Potters, having believed what his mother said all along. "Mum was right."

"Oh, please, Ronald," Ginny said. "You know Mum never really liked her, even when she started providing her with grandchildren. Hermione was only doing what was expected of her. And everyone, including your wife, knew that you were seeing Lavender on the side. More than seeing, by all reports."

"Oi! Leave Lav alone!"

"See?" Harry said. "You're a bloody hypocrite, Ron. You always have been. And even _if_ Hermione was with Snape, it would have only started since she began working at Hogwarts, and not before. When would they have had time to see each other otherwise? You and Lavender were having an affair before Hermione began teaching."

"I bet they _were_ sleeping together," Ron muttered, sitting back. "The teachers won't even comment. That practically confirms it!"

"Go away, Ron," Ginny said. "And don't let the fireplace hit you on the way out."

* * *

"How long do you think it will be until we have to tell the truth?" Hermione asked.

"The marriage will be dissolved as it always is when a partner is believed dead," Severus said, stroking her bare arm where they were lying by the lake under cover of twilight. "He will not wait too long to wed the Brown chit. Most likely, he relies so heavily on his celebrity status…"

"That he thinks everyone will be in favour of his moving on so soon," she said, finishing his thought. "And if he continually plays the 'she was having an affair' card…"

"Something which he cannot prove, and would be hypocritical to talk about anyway…"

"Then the public really will hate him, and we can come out of the woodwork." She sighed, and leaned into his embrace. "We are far more respected, and I'll have the female population on my side. And would it be immodest to say that we're _both_ intelligent, and well-liked by students?"

"Intelligent, yes. And _you_ are well-liked. The students will be relieved to see that you are alive."

"I still think that Minerva was crazy to suggest this."

"No doubt she inherited the madness from Dumbledore."

"Well, let's hope that this pays off."

"Indeed."

They were silent for awhile, until Hermione suddenly jumped her secret lover. They almost rolled into the lake, and he tickled her until she saw feeling less amorous. Not that he minded; but he preferred to keep those kinds of activities in the dungeons, where there were more 'toys' for them to 'play' with.

Severus stood, and hauled Hermione to her feet. He laughed at her indignant expression.

"Do I have to throw you into the water in future?" he asked. She shook her head, blushing. "Come on. Let's continue this inside."

"Oh yes," she said, winking. "Definitely inside."

Hermione was the only person who could make the infamous Professor Snape flush.

**

* * *

**

Thanks to Aquilla-1 for the ideas! They have both been incorporated into the story, as you have seen.

**Now, I have a number of 'R' films (not R-rated), but I've already chosen and plotted a story based on a scene in "The Railway Children". I have both the Jenny Agutter and Jemima Rooper versions, but they stick well to the book, so it's much of a muchness.**

**Please review! I shall be asking for input on the letter 'S' in the next post.**


	18. Railway Children, The

"The Railway Children"

September the first, and the children of Hermione and Severus Snape were playing down by the train tracks, awaiting the arrival of the Hogwarts Express. It was a tradition for them, and every year they changed their lookout point.

"Train's late today," Albus remarked. He was the middle child.

"Do you think something's happened to delay it?" the oldest, Beatrice, asked.

"I'm hungry," June, the third child, said. "Can we go back now?"

"No, we can't," Beattie said. "Honestly, June. Why can't you wait? Alby never complains."

"Daddy says that Alby takes after him. Since Daddy doesn't complain, Alby doesn't."

"Oh, be quiet, girls," Alby said.

Just then, a rumbling sort of feel went through the ground. But it wasn't the friendly rumble of the Hogwarts Express. No. This was the rumble of the unknown, something most dreadfully _un_friendly.

"What was that?" June asked, her lower lip trembling. Beattie's eyes widened.

"There! Look!" she said, pointing at a large tree. It was sliding down the bank towards the tracks. The three children gaped as it toppled at the edge, and fell with a crash.

And then they heard the whistle.

"The train!" Alby shouted, jumping to his feet. Sure enough, they could see the locomotive in the distance, coming at its usual fast pace. June whimpered, and Beattie thought fast.

"We haven't got time to find Mother and Father," she said. "We have to move the tree."

"But it's so big," June said, sniffling.

"If we don't, the train'll crash, and a lot of innocent people will be killed. We _have_ to do _something_!"

"Beattie, we haven't got any wands," Alby pointed out. His older sister's eyes examined the landscape.

"Then we'll use branches," she said, and she promptly gathered up three sticks. "What was that spell Mother told us about?"

"Wingardium Leviosa," Alby replied.

"Then let's try that."

"Swish and flick!" June said, remembering. She beamed at her siblings, and they smiled back encouragingly.

"Okay," Beattie said, and they hurried down to the edge of the embankment. "Look, the train's coming already. Unless it can brake quickly, or fly, we _have_ to do this. Swish and flick!"

All three shouted the Levitating Charm, swishing and flicking. The tree shuddered, but didn't move off the ground.

"Isn't cousin Molly on the train?" Alby said, breaking the silence. They all loved their 'cousin'. She showered them with treats whenever she was at school, and talked to and played with them when she wasn't with her other friends.

With renewed resolve, all three put everything they could into the spell.

Red sparks showered from their makeshift wands, and with the magical strength of all three children, the tree lifted out of the way, and they placed it on the other side of the tracks, collapsing onto the grass once it was safely out of the way. Only seconds later the Express went straight past them, and the students waved to the three Snape children.

"Whew!" Beattie said, trying to relax. But she found that she really couldn't. They still had to inform their parents of what had happened.

"Beatrice! Albus! June! Where are you?" they heard their father calling.

"Over here, Daddy!" Alby said, and the headmaster of Hogwarts emerged from the woods in relief. He frowned when he saw the freshly uprooted tree on the opposite bank, but shrugged, and made his way down the slope to his son and daughters.

"Bit far afield," he said, picking up June. "Was that really necessary?"

The siblings looked at each other.

"Yes," they said.

**

* * *

**

Hmm. I was planning something different, but never mind. The original names of the kiddies are Roberta (Robbie), Peter, and Phyllis (Phil). My characters are younger, but that's because I didn't want them to be Hogwarts age yet. No, their parents aren't irresponsible. It's just that this scene depended on them being here, and not actual students yet. Hermione would have just told them about the charm, not taught it to them yet. But then, who knows?

**I don't know whether or not the charm actually emits red sparks, but in the book (and the films), the children make read flags using torn petticoats (or something) and sticks, to wave down the train and make it stop. So I thought it symbolic.**

**The options for next chapter are as follows:**

**Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street**

**Sabrina**

**The Secret Garden**

**Sense & Sensibility**

**Serendipity**

**Seven Brides for Seven Brothers**

**Singin' in the Rain**

**Sleeping Beauty**

**Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs**


	19. Sweeney Todd

"Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street"

A week ago, Lord Voldemort took over the wizarding world. Completely. No more Order of the Phoenix. And he got to fulfil a life-long ambition:

Rule Hogwarts.

He kept on the smartest students, surprising those who thought he just wanted the purebloods. Truth was, he wanted to keep an eye on the bright, young Miss Hermione Granger, and he had to have some reason. Building a society of intelligent witches and wizards seemed the best excuse. Over time, any progeny would become the definition of purebloods, no matter their parents' unfortunate heritage.

And he and Miss Granger both had unfortunate heritages, except for his Slytherin ancestry.

He smirked where he sat in the headmaster's office. There was one thing he had always thought should happen at the school, and that was a theatrical production of some sort. His bossy tendencies would have worked splendidly in the role of director.

Well, as Headmaster Voldemort, he could organise it!

He called Hermione into his office after the start of term feast. She was trembling, but he merely indicated that she sit down.

Where was the fiery Gryffindor had he seen in the battle? Oh, yes. As one of the members of the 'Light', she had to wear a wristband that cut out her powers outside of class, unless she was acting in her own defence. She was the only one of the Golden Trio left, and had been tortured endlessly.

That would explain her fear.

"Hermione, Hermione," he said, shaking his head. She whimpered, shrinking back in her chair. "Calm down, my dear. I simply wished to ask two things of you."

"Y-yes, headmaster?"

"First, I wish for your help in brewing a potion. Severus is busy working on something else, but the potion I must make requires two people. If Bartemius was still in full possession of his faculties… but then, that is what this potion will achieve."

"You mean, it will reverse the effects of the Dementor's Kiss?"

"Precisely. You really are very intelligent, Hermione."

"Thank you, sir. That's… kind of you?"

He chuckled. "Meanwhile, Severus is working on something similar. It is to restore my previous appearance." She gaped. "You have seen pictures, Hermione?"

"Uh… yes."

"Good. What did you think when you first saw them?"

"I…"

"Better yet, let me see."

He smiled evilly as he watched the admiration she had felt when she first saw his teenage looks. Perhaps she would be able to forget who he was when he looked younger. Not like an adolescent; that would never do. But Severus had shown him an image of what he could be after this potion, and he was keen to see that face looking back at him in the mirror.

Voldemort pulled out of Hermione's mind, and watched with interest as she shook where she sat, red—most likely with embarrassment—and tearful, probably from the intrusion. He tilted his head.

"As to the other matter, I would like your opinion."

"My… my opinion, sir?"

"Yes. Out of these three, which would you prefer: a play, a musical, or a variety show?"

She blinked. "Why?"

"Are you questioning me…"

"No! Sorry, sir. No. Um, I love musicals."

"They are your favourite?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He nodded. "I will send you an owl tomorrow morning, with a list of possibles."

"Possible whats, sir?"

"My dear Hermione," he said, leaning forward, causing her to shrink back again, "I wish to put on some form of entertainment towards the end of the school year. If I arranged for a musical to be performed, by the staff and students, would you prefer to be in the show, or to see it?"

"I… I don't know, sir. The thought of just sitting there, not having had to do any work on it, really appeals to me. It's a terrible thing to admit, I know." She dropped her head into her hands.

"No. One day, Hermione, you won't have to work for a living, and you will welcome the break. You will welcome undertaking work of a different kind—being a mother."

"You and your followers killed the only people who might have ever wanted me," she said, some of the fierceness returning to her. He raised an eyebrow, pleased by this display of temper. But she quickly apologised, and he rolled his eyes.

"What makes you think that there would be no one here who might wish to marry you, and have you bear their children?"

"Because I'm a Mudblood, and I'm unattractive."

"Yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, you are a Mudblood—how strange that _you_ should use that word—but you are actually quite pretty."

She raised her eyes to his. "Really?"

Voldemort's red eyes scanned her face. "Oh, yes. But I have now used up my compliment for the day. You may go, Hermione."

She stood, and left the office, no doubt heading straight back to the Salazar Tower. Many changes had been made. One was that the name 'Gryffindor' was no longer allowed in Hogwarts, and the colours had been changed to pink and white. (This was to undermine the house; 'weak' colours instead of 'bold' ones.) Another was that anyone who said a taboo word or phrase got a nasty shock through their wristband.

Oh, it was such fun being headmaster!

* * *

Hermione shook with nerves as she returned to the Gryff… the Salazar Tower. There were no prefects, nor was there a Head Boy or Girl. There were only Death Eaters, some not long out of school. They were performing the same roles, and were given strict instructions not to attack the students, as they could very well get hexed back. And as these were the intelligent students, their attackers would most likely be out-hexed.

She hurried nonetheless, grateful that she at least knew all the rules from her own year as a prefect. That was before… this.

The Take-Over.

It had been a shock when she had received her Hogwarts letter. Harry was dead; Ron was dead; Ginny had lost her mind with grief over them; the Creevey boys were missing, presumed dead. In fact, the only real friends that Hermione had left, who were still at Hogwarts with her, were Neville and Luna. She had been pleasantly surprised to find that they were going to be attending along with her.

'Pleasantly'? More like mind-blowing and ecstatically surprised to see them in the Great Hall. If they hadn't been zapped via their wristbands for showing 'disorderly conduct', in the form of running towards each other, it could have been a happy reunion. Well, a bittersweet one, but that was better than nothing.

As soon as she got to Salazar Tower, however, Hermione could have a proper reunion with Neville.

The portrait opened—Salazar Tower was now fair game, with no passwords for the common room, and no spells on the staircases—and Hermione shrieked with happiness.

"Luna!" she cried, leaping into the room, and running to her blonde friend. Neville enveloped both of them in a hug. "What're you _doing_ here?"

"The headmaster sent me a letter, telling me that I was now with you. Something about having fought in the last battle, and clearly being less Ravenclaw and more… you know. 'Salazar'." They shuddered, but there was no wristband shock. "Oh, but I'm glad that I'm here."

"I'm surprised he'd risk it, putting the three of us together. We're the only ones left from Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts now."

"Just go with it, Hermione," Neville said. "What did… _he_ want?"

"It's… it's very strange," she said, and she bit her lower lip. "How do I… well, he wants to put on a show at Hogwarts, and… well, I'm so confused! He wanted my advice." Then she relayed the conversation in its entirety to her friends.

* * *

"Well done," Voldemort said to himself as he climbed into bed that night. He felt unbearably smug about the whole thing. "Ah." He reclined back on the numerous pillows, basking in the luxury of the headmaster's apartments. One day, he intended to share them with Hermione.

He had secretly applauded himself for having come up with the idea of putting the Lovegood child in Salazar Tower with Hermione and that Longbottom boy. They were the two least likely to be of use to her of out her old comrades, despite how well they had fought in the final battle. But with her two remaining friends with her, she would no doubt feel more comfortable.

The headmaster held no love for the Granger girl. But he wanted to marry her nonetheless.

Let's be honest; she really _didn't_ have any realistic prospects; and if ever she wanted children, she would need a husband. He wanted at least one heir. Any children of his would have security, now that he was in charge of the wizarding world, and Britain's strongest magical fortress.

Ah, yes. He was looking forward to the rest of the year, until she would graduate.

And then she would be his.

* * *

After auditions had been held a month later, Voldemort called Hermione to his office again. If he had meetings with her too often, it would look suspicious, though none would dare question it. But Hermione would, and it would be harder to win her favourable opinion. The musical really was the perfect excuse, as he wanted her 'expert advice' on casting and such. That made this whole thing a doubly good idea.

"Have you any suggestions about casting, Hermione?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as he watched her forehead wrinkle in confusion and worry.

"Uh… I'd hardly like to say, headmaster."

"Come now. Be honest, or I will have to use Legillimancy on you again, and who knows what I may find out?" She dropped her head in defeat, sighing.

"Very well. Well, everyone who auditioned had fine voices, and could act, too. So I suppose it's now a matter of suiting people to their characters instead?"

"Precisely. Who do you think is most appropriate for the Johanna role?"

"I hope you don't think that I'm playing favouritism, but I think that Luna would do really well. She can be dreamy, she's got a high voice, she has blonde hair, and she can also look haunted. Also, she has no mother figure, and has only ever had a father figure, though at least Xenophilius was much kinder, and was certainly in no way like Judge Turpin."

"I agree with your assessment."

"…You do?"

"Naturally. You have made a sound judgment based on your knowledge of both the character and the person you think should play the role. How do you feel about Justin Finch-Fletchley as Anthony?"

"You _do_ realise that your basilisk nearly killed him in our second year, don't you?"

"Do not quibble with me, and especially not in that tone, Hermione."

She hung her head. "I apologise, sir."

"That's better. Now, I do not know much about Finch-Fletchley, or his family, but then I have no interest in that. I felt that he had little chemistry with Miss Lovegood."

"I don't think he could handle the difficult songs. His audition song didn't have much of a range, nor was it particularly challenging."

"I agree. However, Longbottom's voice was surprising." He tapped his chin. "And he certainly played well opposite Miss Lovegood in the auditions."

"Anthony is willing to do anything to rescue Johanna, and is determined even after he is threatened to stay away from her. He is kind, mild, sees the world through rose-coloured glasses until he ends up on the receiving end of Turpin's wrath."

"And he would not have seen much of his parents while at sea, assuming that he had any."

"Yes." Hermione looked sad, and he frowned.

"Who would you cast as Lucy?"

"Would you curse me if I said that, sanity-wise, Bellatrix Lestrange would be most suited?"

He laughed, nearly frightening her out of her seat. "A fair assessment once again, Hermione. But she also has a good voice, and can sing fast numbers. She sang a patter song for her audition, and I understood every word."

"I hate to admit it, but that's true."

"Which makes me think that she would be a good Mrs. Lovett."

"No doubt you are right, headmaster."

"Here is my ideal cast list," he said, pushing a piece of parchment across the surface of the desk. Hermione picked it up, and looked over it approvingly.

"You're quite good at this, sir. I can understand you casting Professor Snape as Judge Turpin, particularly with that naturally deep voice. And the snivelling Pettigrew as the Beadle is kind of… perfect." She shuddered. "I never thought that I'd be using 'Pettigrew' and 'perfect' in a sentence. No call for alliteration could ever be _that_ desperate. And I didn't know that Professor Rosier could speak Italian so perfectly, so I understand him being cast as Pirelli, since he's the only one who can pull off the accent."

"What about Toby?"

"Michael Corner is a good choice. Out of the students still alive—and here—he's the best one."

"You would have cast someone else?"

"Given a choice… I would have chosen… Dennis Creevey." She could feel the tears coming to her eyes, and furiously blinked them back. She would _not_ let her emotions get the better of her in front of Lord bloody Voldemort.

"Moving on," he said, the words callous but the voice gently firm. "I wish Narcissa could have been involved, as she could probably do the role of Lucy quite well. But she is unavailable, of course. Alecto Carrow suits the character."

"The mad part, maybe."

"Yes, Hermione. Do you approve the chorus?"

"Yes, headmaster. But about the leading man…"

"I know you have not scene Bartemius Crouch acting—except when he was impersonating Mad-Eye Moody—nor have you heard him sing. But you must trust me on this one."

"You haven't even restored his lost marbles yet!"

"It won't be long now. And I have everyone confidence that he will be fully capable of filling the role of Sweeney Todd."

"I hope you are right, sir."

"Indeed. Oh, and Miss Granger? I will expect you to be accompanying me to the performance. Had that old fool remained in charge of the school, you would have been Head Girl of Hogwarts; of that I am certain. You should at least be shown some kind of honour. Being escorted by the headmaster will do that well enough, I assume." She was gaping at him. He couldn't help but think that she made the look attractive. "Just maintain the level of work expected of you. Understood?" She nodded dumbly. "Good. Now go back to Salazar Tower. Good night, Hermione. And… thank you for your input."

"G-good night, sir."

* * *

Is it just me, she thought as she walked along, or is he extremely out of character? I never expected him to behave like this. Am I hallucinating?

In great confusion, Hermione went to bed that night, knowing that she had to be up early the next day to continue brewing with… the headmaster.

She sighed, and snuggled down in her pink bedcovers.

**

* * *

**

The entirety of the story will be posted separately, since I know how aggravating it can be to get a really long chapter when you're too busy to read it straight away. This is still probably the longest chapter I've ever written.

**So the full fic is called "Voldemort's Plans for Hermione".**

**Review, please!**

**Edit: Sorry! I forgot to put up the list of DVDs for next chapter. Please choose from one of the following:**

**Tosca (my favourite opera, and rich with possibilities; not that I'm trying to influence you *Looks shifty*)**

**That Darn Cat!**

**That Thing You Do!**

**Three Men and a Baby/Little Lady**

**Tootsie**

**The Truman Show**


	20. That Darn Cat!

"That Darn Cat!"

"Where is it?" she muttered, fossicking around in her trunk. The seventh years had graduated the night before, and she was trying to finish her packing before breakfast. But she couldn't find her Gryffindor tie. Not that she was wearing her uniform; but her Head Girl badge was still attached to the neckwear, and if the material was caught in something, she wouldn't want to tear it by using a Summoning Charm. "Damn."

"Mrow."

"Crooks, shouldn't you be in your bask… et." She started at her cat. Her tie was in a bow around his neck, and there was an envelope attached to it. She blinked twice, and reached out for it; but the half-Kneazle leapt out of the way, and she frowned. "Come back here, Crookshanks. We're leaving soon."

"Me-eow!" He shook his head, and bounded out of the Head Girl's bedroom, and down the stairs. She chased after him, running through the common room she shared with Dean Thomas, the Head Boy.

"Hey, Her… mione." His head swivelled as she ran straight past, following Crookshanks. He chuckled, and went back to snogging Padma Patil, his girlfriend of two years.

"Crookshanks, come back!" they heard her call, feet pounding down the corridor.

* * *

Tiny mews could be heard from the box. Argus Filch glared down at them, his gaze travelling to a shame-faced Mrs. Norris.

"Who did this to you, my pretty?"

"Mrow?" She tilted her head, and then climbed back into the box, settling around her kittens. She began to lick the head of one of them. Filch's eyes narrowed at the orange fur that adorned half the brood. He knew that colour anywhere. It was that ginger furball, the one belonging to the Head Girl, often seen creeping through the halls. Well, he wasn't going to raise these kittens by himself. She would have to do her share. Maybe she could stay at Hogwarts during the holidays?

* * *

"Minerva, you are getting too old for this," Albus Dumbledore said, looking down at his deputy. Professor McGonagall was in her cat form, waiting for word from Hermione. She had sent Crookshanks out to lead his mistress there. She had come to a decision late last night; she wanted to take Hermione on as her apprentice.

She returned to human form, and glared at the headmaster. "You are the one retiring in two years' time, Albus. When I take over, we will need a competent Transfiguration professor. I know that we can find one in Miss Granger."

"How have you summoned her?"

"Crookshanks is going to bring her here by stealing her school tie. She told me the other day that she wouldn't leave without it. I will Transfigure it into something else, and she must work out what it is, and how to return it to its original state. If she can do that, we can bypass the usual Ministry test."

"My dear, you will make an excellent headmistress."

"I cannot help but feel that it is very Slytherin of me. What would Severus say?"

"I imagine that he is even more eager than you are to keep her around."

"What? What could you possibly mean, Albus?" He winked. "What, _surely_ not Severus and Hermione? But he's her teacher…"

"Oh, he would never have made a move on her before graduation. But he is no longer her professor, Minerva." He opened the door to the office. "Good luck with Miss Granger. See you at breakfast."

"With any luck, Albus." She seemed distant. Well, he had certainly opened her mind to the possibility of a relationship between two people so like children to her.

* * *

"Where are you? Crooks? That darn cat," she grumbled. Just then, she saw a flick of her pet's tail around the corner, and she ran forward. "Get back here!"

She followed him all the way to an unfamiliar room. The door was ajar, and he went inside. She trusted his instincts, and nearly tripped over him when she entered. The door shut behind her, and a few candles flared up, but not enough for her to see past the cat.

"You troublesome boy," she said, and she pulled the envelope off. He shied away before she could remove the tie, and she scowled at him. "Fine then. But you wait there, you hear me?" He started to wash himself in the dismissive manner that only cats can pull off. She ripped open the envelope, and read the note by the candlelight.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I long for the opportunity to use your first name, but I fear that this may never happen. I would have written you sooner, but I could not. Now, however, I am in a position allowing me the freedom to tell you of my feelings._

_I love you. That is it, really._

_No, I tell a lie. There is more. I wish for the opportunity to court you, if you are agreeable to the idea. If you are not, please forget that I ever wrote this, and that you ever read it. That would be the kind thing to do._

_Sincerely,_

_The man standing behind you_.

She dropped the note, and began to turn around. But the lights had gone out, and she had to rely on her senses to find him, whoever he was. Finally, her hands made contact, and she felt shivers pass through both their bodies as she traced his frame.

Tall. Broad shoulders. It could have been a Weasley or a Quidditch player. Who could have only been in a position to tell her today? Someone older than her, yes; but it would have had to be someone taboo as well, by her reckoning.

She raised her hands to his face, and knew who it was. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Professor Snape," she whispered, and then his lips met hers. She screwed her eyes shut, not that it made a difference, and gave herself over to the sudden passion. He coaxed her lips apart, and she whimpered as he deepened the kiss. His arms were wound tightly around her waist, and she felt herself being bent over backwards. It had been so unexpected that she ran out of breath fairly soon, and had to push him back. He let go of her.

"Forgive me, Miss Granger," he said. "I was presumptuous." He raised the lights, and his office appeared before her eyes. He turned, and began to walk to his desk.

"Hermione."

"What?" He paused in his walking. "What did you say?"

"Hermione. My name is Hermione. I am no longer your student, after all." She looked at her feet as he turned back to her.

He nodded slowly. "Hermione. You may leave. I am sorry for having disturbed you. I went to your rooms to leave the letter, and saw your cat with your tie. So I… I arranged this, and changed the signature." He fiddled with the collars of his sleeves. "I cannot apologise enough for having forced myself on you so abominably. I never should have written that letter." Hermione raised her eyes to his, and saw him draw in a shaky breath. "Please forgive me, and forget this."

"I… all right," she said, and she saw the dwindling hope leave his eyes completely. "I will forgive you." His head drooped with a resigned nod. "Will you forget me?"

"Never. Never could I forget you."

"Then never will I forget you." She stepped forward, and placed a hand on his cheek. His shocked gaze met hers. "Severus." He dropped into his chair. Backwards she walked, until she was nearly at the door. She grasped the door handle, and left, once more chasing Crookshanks.

* * *

This time, he stopped outside Professor McGonagall's door, meowing loudly. The door opened magically, and he ran inside. It closed behind him, and Hermione had to knock. There was a bit of shuffling, and then she was let in. Her former Transfiguration professor was sitting in an armchair, stroking the cat's bare neck. Hermione frowned, and studied the floor. Where was her tie?

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, drawing the young woman's attention. "I have heard that you are applying for a number of different jobs at the Ministry."

"Yes, professor. Uh, have you seen my tie?"

"Yes, I have seen it."

"You have? Oh, where is it?"

"First, I would like to offer you a chance at an apprenticeship with me."

Hermione's mouth fell open, and she fell into a chair. "W-what? An apprenticeship? You would offer _me_ an apprenticeship?"

"In a few years, there will be need of a new Transfiguration professor."

"What? You're not…"

"I will be taking over from Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh." Hermione smiled in relief. "Thank goodness. So you want me, _me_, to train under you, to become a teacher?"

"Why should you be so surprised? _I_ am surprised that no one else has offered. Professor Snape, for example."

"What?" Hermione's head snapped up. "Why him?"

"He respects you more than you suspect, my dear. But forget about him. What do you say to my offer?"

"I… I really cannot refuse. I… Merlin's beard, it's a dream come true!" She laughed, and clapped three times. "Oh, thank you, professor! Thank you so much." She jumped to her feet, and sprang forward to shake McGonagall's hand. "Should I leave my things here? I mean, at Hogwarts? Or do I go home first? I can hardly think." She laughed again, spinning giddily. "I can hardly _believe_ it. Oh, I have to go and tell the others!"

"I will sent you the information at breakfast," the older woman said, smiling. "We will meet again afterwards, and discuss things."

"Thank you." Hermione gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. "Come on, Crookshanks."

They ran out of the room, and hurried down to the hall, Crookshanks close at his mistress's heels. As they neared the foot of the staircase in the Entrance Hall, Filch shuffled into view.

"Miss Granger," he said, and Hermione skidded to a halt.

"Yes, Mr. Filch?"

"That… that _thing_ of yours got Mrs. Norris pregnant." He pointed violently at Crookshanks, who shrank behind Hermione's legs. She raised her eyebrows.

"Then she is expecting?"

"Not anymore. There are six of them in my quarters, and I haven't got time to look after them all."

Hermione noticed Snape walking up to them slowly, hesitant in his steps. She smiled.

"You won't have to worry about a thing, Mr. Filch," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. She raised her voice, glancing again at the potions master. "I am going to be Professor McGonagall's apprentice, and shall be around here for many years to come. I can help raise the kittens."

"Good." He glared at the half-Kneazle, who glared back. "That darn cat." He moved away, and the professor walked up to Hermione.

"Actually," she said, looking straight into his black eyes, "I'm finding more and more reasons to appreciate Crooks every day."

"Really?"

"Oh yes." Hermione stroked his hair back, tucking it behind his ears. She tilted his face down, and took his lips in a gentle kiss, pulling back before it could get heated. "Um, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you've just sprung this on me this morning. Can we take it slowly?"

"Whatever you want." He cradled her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "Whatever you… Hermione?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Where is your tie?"

* * *

"**Tootsie" and "That Darn Cat!" tied, but I felt more inspired with this one.**

**There are only two options for the next chapter:**

**Under the Tuscan Sun**

**The Untouchables**

**Please review, dear readers, and vote! I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter. As to those who read the full version of the previous chapter, what did you all think of the review from VOTE-FOR-OPERA? Are Hermitt and I the only one who think that it was heavily laden with sarcasm?**


	21. Untouchables, The

"The Untouchables"

"Please?"

"No."

"…_Please_?"

"Severus, it's a good film, and very educational."

"How is a tweaked account of something that happened in America more than half a century ago _possibly_ educational? May I remind you, my dear Hermione, that _I_ am the professor here, _not_ you."

"But the music…"

"However good the music is," he said, "it does not make up for the fact that half of the words in the film are swearwords! There is no excuse for that."

"Just ignore them," she said, as though it was obvious. He shook his head.

"This is the first—and last—time I watch this movie. I'm only doing it because you insisted. I mean, this scene with the two policemen fighting… it's just one mass of bad language! I can't stand to hear anymore. I trust that any children we have will not be subjected to this… kind of thing." He waved a hand at the television.

"Oh, Severus, swearing is a part of life."

"Can't we just… I never thought I would _ever_ ask this. Can't we just watch a Disney film?"

"Ha!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Brilliant! I knew you'd crack eventually."

"Wha…"

"I've been wanting you to watch _Basil, the Great Mouse Detective_ for ages, and you keep refusing. Well, we're definitely going to watch it now. Thank you for volunteering."

He looked dumbfounded. "You mean, we've been watching this film just because you wanted to watch… a _different_ film?"

"Hey, I like _The Untouchables_."

"I hate the swearing. Do you ever hear me use any of those words? Ever?"

"No," she said, bending down to change the movies over. She could tell that her husband was admiring her backside from his seat on the couch. "But you're far too creative to resort to using such crude language." She sat beside him, snuggling up.

"How long is _this_ movie?"

"Just over an hour. Why?"

"Because when this film is over, you're going to be punished for tricking me in so Slytherin a fashion."

"Mmm." She pressed the 'play' button. "I look forward to it."

**

* * *

**

This is my protest against films (and stories, *hint, hint*) that use too much swearing. It can be difficult to get through them. Honestly, can't people come up with something more creative in the way of insults? Admittedly, not all of them are insults; but it's still offensive, and I worry when you get them in G-rated (or K-rated) movies.

**Anyway. Now that my mild rant is over, please review! I only have one film starting with 'V' (I'll let you guess what it is), but you'll be choosing for 'W'.**

**See you next chapter!**


	22. Virgin Suicides, The

"The Virgin Suicides"

It was Christmas Eve of the Golden Trio's fifth year. Hermione, sweet sixteen Hermione, was in the library late that night, unable to sleep. She couldn't help but think of two things: one, the brewing war which the Ministry refused to acknowledge; and two, the man she had been secretly corresponding with for over a year now: Sirius Black. She blushed with every letter he sent, filled with naughty thoughts that fuelled her dreams. When they had met again at Grimmauld Place this Christmas, she had stumbled over the words of her greeting, while he was charm personified, kissing her hand, and then winking.

"It's just as well," she murmured, staring into the fire, the only light in the room. "Just as well that we haven't been alone together."

"Until now."

She gasped, and twisted around on the loveseat. "Sirius. Uh, hello."

"Hello, princess," he said, walking forward slowly. He flicked his wand in the direction of the door, locking and warding it. He also cast a silencing charm just before he sat beside her, causing her to blush.

"It's almost midnight," she said. "What brings you here?"

"I knew where you were," he said, sliding closer, his eyes darker than normal. "As you were saying, we haven't been alone together yet. I felt that now was the time to remedy that." He placed an arm around her shoulders, and the other on her right knee. He proceeded to stroke it, and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut.

"So now we're together," she whispered. "What do you intend to do?"

He leant close, and brushed his lips against her ear. "Make love to you."

"Sirius!" She jumped to her feet, scandalised. "We can't!"

"Keep you voice down, princess."

"I… Okay." She took a few steady breaths. "Right. Now, please explain your reasoning."

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" he asked, looking her up and down.

"Of course. I'm not married," she said, tossing her hair back.

"And yet we could die anytime," he said, his voice seductive. His body was tense, though, and she knew that if she tried to leave, he could very easily spring on her before she could take even one step. "We are fighting a war. Your connection to Harry, and your blood status, make you a target. The fact that you are working so actively to help bring down Voldemort… well, you're practically signing your own death warrant if the other side wins."

"But they won't, will they?"

"If the Ministry stays in denial, who knows what could happen?" He held out a hand, and she took it. He pulled her gently onto the seat beside him. "If I could, I would keep you here with me forever, my fellow prisoner, and make you mine every night. In fact, I'd have you in my prison cell whenever I wanted." He leaned closer. "Lie to me. Tell me that you haven't been dreaming about me ever since that first letter I sent you, when I told you of my _own_ illicit dreams." He smoothed her hair out of the way. "Hermione. My Hermione."

"Oh, Sirius," she said, turning her head away. "I… I can't lie to you."

"So you have been dreaming about me." She nodded. "Then allow me to make these dreams a reality." It was drawing close to midnight. "You don't want to die a virgin, do you? I can make you a woman; a very, _very_ happy woman. And after we win the war, we can be together forever, publicly and privately. But before we part, I must have you at least once; stake my claim. For you are, and always will be, mine."

With that last word, he closed his lips over hers, and Hermione moaned gently as she shared her first kiss with Sirius Black. The fact that he was Harry's godfather was nowhere near the forefront of her mind. Only the fact that his tongue was now against her lips… and brushing past her teeth… and tackling her own tongue… and making her feel strange things below just the way his letters did, only ten times stronger…

"Sirius," she whispered as he pulled back. "Yes. Make love to me."

"I will," he said. As he began to peel off his shirt, a necklace was revealed, with a large black pearl as its pendant. Hermione stared at it; or was she staring at his chest? Either way, he was about to deflower a very pretty minor, and he intended to do it on the stroke of midnight.

And so he did.

**

* * *

**

This is the prequel to Chapter 16, "Pirates of the Caribbean". The movie "The Virgin Suicides" is based (very closely) on the book by Jeffrey Eugenides. I primarily love the film for its soundtrack, funnily enough. Kirsten Dunst is one of the people in it. Sad film, but interesting nonetheless. And it's astonishingly close to the book, which is unusual for a film. It was one of Sofia Coppola's first films.

**This story bears almost no relevance to the plot of "The Virgin Suicides", but it was all I could think of.**

**Please review!**

**Here are the choices for next chapter:**

**A Walk to Remember**

**Wimbledon (would be replaced with Quidditch, probably)**

**The Wizard of Oz**

**Wuthering Heights (the Timothy Dalton version)**


	23. Wizard of Oz, The

"The Wizard of Oz"

It was so very tempting to floo call the shoe company. Whatever Severus had done to the shoes, they wouldn't change back. She was the only one who could change their appearance, apart from the company. Unless… surely not…

He _didn't_ Polyjuice himself to look like her just to change the shoes twice… did he? What a waste that would be.

And she didn't have time to go and renew the spells on them, nor to purchase a new pair.

"Honestly," she said, unpacking them at the hotel.

A substitute teacher had been called in for the three days Professor Granger would be at the conference. Severus insisted that he would miss her like crazy. They had been courting for only three weeks, and she knew that she would miss him just as much, if not more. But it was important that she catch up on the latest developments in Transfiguration. So Hermione had set off, and unwittingly allowed Severus to help her pack.

Huh. Oh, and what was this? A note.

_My dear Hermione,_

_Are you surprised that I remembered your favourite film? I trust that _you_ remember the words that Dorothy must speak to return home. Well, when you wear those shoes, all you need do is emulate her actions—tapping heels, words, everything—and you will be by my side in an instant, or something very close to that, at least. This is in case the convention gets mind-numbingly dull. I have experienced these things before, and know just how tedious they can be._

_At Hogwarts, I have something which will return you to the conference should you wish it. While I long to have you staying with me, I would not wish for you to neglect your work. Once you have returned for good, I will pay for the renewal on the shoes._

_Now do you see why I made sure that whatever you were taking with you would match?_

_Yours,_

_Severus._

"You old romantic, you," she murmured, smiling. Without a moment's pause, she changed into the ruby slippers.

There. That was better.

* * *

On the evening of the second night, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy. He came over, and struck up a pleasant enough conversation with her. At least, it was pleasant enough at first.

"After you've finished wasting your time as a teacher," he said with the Malfoy drawl, "you must come and work for my company. I'm sure that Father would approve of you, even though you _are_ a Mud… Muggleborn."

Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Just what are you implying, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked coldly. "How dare you insinuate that teaching is unimportant!"

"I'm not saying that. Just that you're too talented to grow stagnant at that old castle."

"And I suppose you would say the same thing of your godfather?"

"Uncle Severus is washed up," he said, and he took another sip of his drink, not knowing just how close he was to being hexed. "He only knows that school now. Nobody wants him around, but he's become an institution. Surely _you_ don't want to become an institution, Hermione?"

"I did _not_ give you permission to use my first name, Draco Malfoy," she said, her voice loud enough to draw attention from nearby people. Draco looked around at them, uncomfortable with the stares.

"Look," he said, touching her arm, "let's get out of here, _Professor_ Granger. We can, uh, discuss things better in private."

SLAP.

"Don't you _ever_ manhandle me," she said. "For your information, I already belong to someone else, and _I_ want him. And it's far better to become an institution with the man that I love than work for a nameless corporation run by an arrogant, snobbish, condescending, self-important brat like _you_!"

With that, Hermione stormed to the doors. Just before she left the room, however, she turned and cast a non-verbal charm at him, silently thanking Professor Flitwick for teaching her how to cast a whirlwind on a single person.

Knew that would come in handy someday, she thought. She strode into the hallway, and ducked behind a column, where she activated her Portkey shoes. The tug behind her navel was vaguely unpleasant; but the thought of being back at Hogwarts made her incredibly happy, washing out the far less welcome feeling.

She crashed into the middle of Severus' library. He leapt from his chair, and helped her up.

"Hello," he said, watching as she dusted herself off. There was a humorous glint in his eyes. "What brings you here?"

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said. "It's just that Malfoy was being horrible…"

"Which one?"

"The younger. Your 'dear' godson."

"Just as disagreeable, now that I think about it. What did he do?"

Hermione quickly described the events that led to her presence in the dungeons. Severus looked quite ticked, but smiled at her defence of him. He drew her into a gentle kiss, and they ended up reclining in each other's arms on the couch by the fire.

"I really do love you, you know," she whispered.

"I know. I love you, too, Hermione. My own Hermione." He kissed the top of her head, and then went back to staring into the flames.

"I still have tomorrow morning, but then I'll be back. Promise."

"Yes. You should wrap things up. When must you leave here by?"

"I can't stay away too long. They'll be wondering where I am."

"Indeed." He sighed, and pulled her closer. "You are delightfully warm and comfortable here. Must I let you go?"

"Oh, I'll be back tomorrow; I told you so. Then we'll see each other every day…"

"It's not often enough."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Hmm." He shifted them around so that Hermione was sitting up. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes, Hermione."

She sighed. "Fine." When the lids were closed, he wordlessly and wandlessly Summoned the small, velvet box. He had bought the 'present' for her two weeks ago, having saved for much longer, since a few months before he initiated the courting. Opening the box, he cleared his throat.

"You may open them now."

She smiled at the secrecy, but froze when she saw the scene before her. He was down on one knee and everything. "Uh… Severus?"

"If you are even half the know-it-all I think you to be, you will know what I am asking of you." He removed the ring, picked up her left hand, and slid it onto the correct finger. "Ordinarily, I would not be so presumptuous. But call it Slytherin tactics." He smirked. "This is the Portkey back to the hotel. All you need to do to activate it is say 'yes'."

Hermione paused, and then removed the ring. The smile faded from his face as she set it on the couch beside her. But she took his head in her hands, and leaned forwards.

"Yes," she whispered, and she placed a kiss on his shocked lips. He was so astounded—no doubt having expected rejection when she removed the ring—that he didn't respond. However, he really didn't need to. She picked up the ring, slid it back on, and stood. Finally, he moved, but she skipped out of the way.

"But… you said…"

"I did, Severus," she said, winking at him. "I said… yes."

She blew him a kiss just as the Portkey whisked her away. She arrived in her hotel room seconds later, and collapsed onto the bed. She giggled, excited. Finally! She was going to become the wife of Severus Snape.

The next day, once her luggage was packed and in her pockets, she waited until the last speech was over. Before the applause had even died away, Hermione had tapped her shoes together, and spoken, "There's no place like home."

Mrs. Severus Snape. Hurrah!

**

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**

I panicked when I saw all the votes for "The Wizard of Oz". What the heck was I supposed to do by way of a plot? Finally, I remembered chapter nine, "In Her Shoes", and decided to make use of that. So this is a sequel to that 'story'. Hope you enjoyed it!

**Well, this was the last of the choices you have had to make. I only have one film each for the last three letters of the alphabet. But it's okay. I've (kind of) plotted them. It's just a matter of typing them up. However! I want to have started posted the Harry Potter/Labyrinth cross-over that I started in chapter twelve, so that I can advertise it on here. It's either that, or you all have to keep an eye out for when it's posted.**

**Please review!**


	24. XMen

"X-Men"

They stared at the screen in shock. Finally, the Golden Trio's heads snapped around to the beaming headmaster.

"I thought that, since we'd been fighting him for so long without success, we should call in extra help," he said, shrugging. He beamed at them. "Now that you know what they look like, you can find them. Just get on over to America."

"Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect," Hermione said, "they were other people playing _fictional_ roles."

"Not fiction, my dear. And if you cannot find them using the movie, here are comic books, and the television series based on the books. You're bound to find them. Just use tracking spells. I've already booked your journeys over there and back again. The return tickets can be used whenever you like. Charge accommodation, meals, and anything else necessary to this card." He handed them something akin to a credit card, and a book. "This lists everywhere you can use this. "Just find Professor Xavier's school, and get their help. I expect you three to explain everything to him."

"Uh… sir," Ron said, looking confused. "Are you… okay?"

"Never better, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, and he clapped him on the shoulder. "I look forward to your return."

"Yes, professor," Harry said, slumping back in his seat. Clearly, the headmaster was losing it.

Hermione looked at her two best friends, and echoed his shrug.

"By the way," he said before leaving, "I know for a fact that Voldemort is also searching for them—Severus and Lucius informed me, as they are with him—so time is of the essence. Bon voyage!" He closed the door behind him.

"If Voldemort thinks that these X-men exist," Harry said, "what does that say about Dumbledore?"

"Oh, Circe," Hermione said. "Well, we'd better get packing."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"If it takes a load of the headmaster's mind, then he'll be able to concentrate on getting the real thing done. So we're going."

* * *

As the ball of bright light burst from the Statue of Liberty, the Golden Trio watched in shock. They were on Liberty Island, hiding out away from the reception. Using Omnioculars, they could all see Voldemort flying towards the statue. How had he got here? How had _they_ got here?

"_Who has a Patronus like _that_?" Harry asked, pointing at the silver doe standing before them._

"_If we listen, perhaps the voice will—oh, I don't know—tell us?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at her friend. He blushed, and looked away._

"_Yeah, yeah, `Mione."_

"Her_mione."_

"_Shh!" Ron said, and they listened to Professor Snape's voice._

"We reached Professor Xavier's school just as a crisis was breaking out. It seems that this man called Magneto has developed a machine to turn people into mutants. The Dark Lord left before this woman with white hair revealed something very interesting, something which I overheard. The molecular structure, I believe it was, breaks down after awhile, once a person has been exposed to this machine's powers. Therefore, Lucius and I encouraged him to go for it, so to speak. Apparate out of there if it gets to close. We shall be doing the same._"_

_With that, the doe had disappeared, and the three best friends looked at each other._

"_Well, that's good news, isn't it?" Ron said._

"_Yes."_

"_No complaining here."_

_There was silence._

"_Does that mean that we don't have to do anything more?" Harry asked._

"_Seems so," Hermione said, and she smiled. "Why, are you complaining?"_

"_Definitely not. I can't wait to see this." He jumped to his feet. "Let's go!"_

So they were now watching as the light neared. Hermione grabbed her friends' hands.

"We have to go now," she said. "Come on!"

They Disapparated, and watched from a different location. They watched as Voldemort was completed consumed. They watched as the light receded, and he was once again visible. They watched as he flew back to land, quite close to them, actually. They watched as two Death Eaters—not doubt their professor and Mr. Malfoy—greeted him.

And they watched as all three left.

"We're done here," Harry said.

"I think someone needs to thank that Magenta," Ron said, pulling Hermione to her feet from their hiding place.

"But he just tried to kill all of those people, Ron!" she said.

"Maybe he didn't know what would happen," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Oh, really, Harry. Since when have you ever been that perceptive? And by the way, Ronald, it's Magneto. Not Magenta. Honestly." She Apparated to their motel, where she was staying in one room, and the boys were sharing another.

* * *

In the morning, they received an owl from their potions professor.

_Go back to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord is finally dead—liquefied, like the Wicked Witch of the West—so the headmaster will no doubt wish for you to return to your classes as soon as possible. And I expect you to have done your potions homework._

_Professor Snape._

Ron and Harry high-fived each other, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Get packing," she said. "I will want proof that he is dead; but for the time being, I want you two ready to return."

"But we haven't done our homework, `Mione…"

"It's _Her_mione, Harry. And it's your own fault for not doing the work before we left. Now start packing up. You can bet Merlin's fuzzy hat that Professor Snape has already informed Professor Dumbledore of You-Know-Who's death, if it really did happen."

* * *

Well, of course, Voldemort really did die, thanks to Magneto's machine. Hermione wrote a very nice letter to him, translated into a complex code that only he and Professor Xavier knew, having created it together. The boys used this time to do their potions homework, and had it ready for their first class back.

Professor Snape hid his surprised well. Anyway, he couldn't talk. Then they might have just shown everyone a letter revealing his familiarity with _The Wizard of Oz_.

And that would never do.

**

* * *

**

This little oddball of a chapter was all that I could come up with. I've been very slack with my stories lately—partly because I've entered so many challenges, and partly because I keep coming up with terrific story ideas—so I felt that I had to do something about this.

**As of last week, I now have two 'X' DVDs—"X-Men", and "X-Men 2". I really want to get the third movie.**

**Please review! Only two chapters to go…**

**Want to guess what 'Y' will be?**


	25. You've Got Mail

"You've Got Mail"

_Dear CharmGirl,_

_They say you can tell a lot about a person from their familiar. How they are able to distinguish the similarities is beyond my comprehension. But perhaps this is the reason the dating service sends the letters for us, so that we do not use our own owls, and give ourselves away. It really is a very good system, and well-run, if my limited experience has been enough to make a reasonable judgement._

_I think that this is my favourite time of year. It reminds me of going back to school, and buying supplies. From what I have learned of you, you seem to value a good education, too. If this is indeed the case, it is little wonder we get on so well._

_Sincerely,_

_MoM1976._

Hermione tucked the letter back into its envelope, and stored it in her bag. She then finished her breakfast, and made her way to the Charms classroom to set up for the day's teaching, humming a tune as she walked. It was always a beautiful day when she got a letter from MoM1976, which was every second day. She was almost sad the rest of the time.

On her thirtieth birthday, Hermione—sick of having had no relationship since Ron—signed up for an over-30s dating service. She sent an owl to Magical Matches, who selected someone for her. He sent her a letter through Magical Matches. She, in turn, sent one back.

And so it began.

* * *

The following morning, at precisely nine o'clock, an owl was delivered to the Minister for Magic. He grinned as he ripped open the envelope, recognising the Magical Matches logo, and pulled out the letter from CharmGirl.

_Dear MoM1976,_

_I'm so glad that you find the time to write, considering how busy you said your job is. I mean, my job is busy at times, too, but I thrive on the activity. How difficult it is to make sure that we leave out personal details. I don't think that this is _quite_ what Magical Matches had in mind._

_What you said about owners and their pets is somewhat true. It could be that there are similarities in appearance between some people and their animals; but I think it is more about the person's choices. After all, I look nothing like my familiar. But then, he chose me._

_Yes, I value an education. More than that I cannot say. I would hate to give away too much, after all._

_Sincerely,_

_CharmGirl._

He placed the letter in a desk drawer for later, and turned his attention to the piles of parchment on his desk. He was determined to get this education policy through. Yes, there were drawbacks; but the advantages far outweighed them. There was a knock.

"Enter!" he called, and looked over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses as his secretary poked her head around the door.

"Minister Weasley, don't forget your nine-thirty appointment with Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you, Miss Swann," he said. She left, and he got to work swiftly, wanting to have at least some of these documents read before one of Hogwarts' governors arrived. This policy would, after all, be affecting the school directly.

Percy sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, knocking his spectacles askew.

This was precisely why he was at loggerheads with Hermione Granger.

**

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**

Okay, so this is the first chapter of another story I'll be writing (eventually), based on the film "You've Got Mail". That's because the whole story, if I wrote it as one chapter, would go on for-bloody-ever. Please excuse the bad language.

**Anyway! One last chapter, for the letter 'Z'. I've only got the one film. Well, my sister has one here starting with 'Z' as well; but, by my own rules, I can't use that.**

**I'll give you two hints: chapter 10 of this story, and "Twilight", the film series.**

**Happy guessing! And please review, as usual.**

**By the way: the name of this full story will be "The Policy", and the Harry Potter/Labyrinth cross-over will be named "Rescue and Reunite". Just so you know which ones to watch for in the future.**

**(Of course, you should be watching for all my fics, anyway…)**


	26. Zathura

"Zathura"

Some months had passed since the debacle with the 'Jumanji' board game. Tonks was still teased mercilessly about it, even after she (somehow) escaped charges. No one had gone missing, and everything had been repaired, including Moody's wooden leg.

Unfortunately, short memory is a common enough flaw among humans. The Incident had passed, and other things had since made front page news. So it was _somewhat_ understandable that, when Sirius and Remus discovered a game called 'Zathura' at a Muggle second-hand stall, they thought nothing of starting to play it when they got back to number twelve.

Remus went first. He wound the clockwork mechanism twice, and a 'Go' button popped up. He pressed it, and a number appeared on the dial. All by itself, a little rocket moved five spaces. He raised an eyebrow at his friend when a card popped up from a slot, and pulled it out.

"'Meteor shower'?" he said. "'Take evasive action'. What…"

Ker-thunk!

Their heads swivelled around. A smoking hole was now in the floor, less than two feet away from them. Further holes appeared as pieces of rock crashed through the ceiling.

"Come on!" Sirius shouted. Remus grabbed the game, and they squashed into the fireplace together, waiting for the meteor shower to end. It seemed like hours before the stones ceased fire, and they emerged.

"What the hell was that all about?" Remus said, looking down at the game in horror.

"I dunno," Sirius said, running a hand through his hair. "Damn. Don't you remember what happened at the Ministry? What Tonks did?"

"Oh." He grimaced. "I forgot that."

"So what do we do?"

"Let's look at the instructions."

They sat beside one another at the holey coffee table, and read the writing on the box. Sirius glanced at the hallway through the open door, and was surprised to see that the destruction had only happened inside the living room, where they were. His gaze wandered further. Through one of the big holes in the ceiling, he could see the night sky.

"Remus, what time is it supposed to be?"

"Nearly lunchtime. Why?"

"Umm… no reason. I'll be back."

"Sirius, we have to play until one of us reaches Zathura, wherever—whatever—that is."

"Yeah, of course," he said, not really listening. He strode to the front door, and wrenched it open. "Uh, Moony?" He laughed at his joke. "Can you come here, please?"

"If it isn't one thing… What is it?" Remus asked, joining his friend at the door. Then his mouth dropped open. "Oh boy."

"I know. How cool is this?"

"How… how 'cool' is it? You idiot, I'm a _werewolf_!"

"It's not full moon yet."

"Do you think that matters in… in _outer_ space? Of all the time for my wolf instincts not to be working, it _had_ to be today, didn't it? I just _had_ to go along with this…"

"Hey, does Hermione still have that Time-Turner?" Sirius asked.

"The one that she stole?"

"_No_. The one that she… now how did she put it? 'Retained as a memento', and 'just substituted it with a Simulacrum'."

"She appropriated it. It's the same thing."

"Yes, but _your _wording suggests that our Hermione broke the rules, and she isn't a rule-breaker. No, sir." Sirius shook his head emphatically, grinning at his housemate.

"Ri-ight. Let's just finish this game."

"No. Let's make sure that we never started it."

"Pads…"

But Sirius was bounding up the stairs in dog form, no doubt to save time (in more ways than one). Remus sighed, and followed him, leaving the game behind on the coffee table.

"Got it!" Sirius shouted, and Remus sped up his steps. His best friend was dancing around, swinging something from his hand. Sure enough, it was the Time-Turner, on its long, golden chain. "Come on. Let's change things, eh?"

"Padfoot… you know that that won't work. We can't change time like that."

"Why not?"

"Because otherwise they won't have happened!" Remus was waving his arms around. "Don't you ever listen to what Hermione says?"

"She's usually telling me off for something." Sirius scratched his head. "Why should I listen to that?"

"You obtuse git," he muttered, turning away.

"What did I do?"

"I'm surprised that Harry hasn't killed you already. You're breaking her heart simply by ignoring her."

"Her… her heart? What do you mean? She's with Ron. She's been with him for… uh, how long?"

"Five months." Remus sighed, tucked the Time-Turner into his pocket. "Let's go back downstairs. I don't think this'd work in outer space, anyway. Time-travel should always be a last resort."

It was Sirius' turn, but he could barely concentrate. Five months?

"That long?" he asked. Remus arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I think she got sick of waiting for you to notice her, and just got together with Ron out of desperation. She doesn't want to be lonely. She doesn't _deserve_ to be lonely."

"I… didn't know. She, uh, _fancies _me?"

"Well, as you said, you weren't paying attention."

"I'm such an idiot," he moaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"Sirius, just play. We'll discuss this later."

Sirius sighed, and turned the clockwork key. He pressed the red button, got a number seven, and read the card.

"'Your robot is defective'," he said. "Gee."

"This has really got to you, hasn't it?"

"I feel like a right idiot."

Just then, they realised that a large silhouette was coming into view from around the corner, clomping footsteps echoing off the wooden floor. Mrs. Black had started screaming from her portrait the moment the first meteor hit. Soon, a little robot was standing in front of them. It grew in size, its eyes blazing, and it pointed at Sirius.

"Alien life form," it declared. Sirius grabbed his wand, and tried to hex the robot. Instead, the spell deflected off the metal, and Remus had to duck to avoid being Stunned.

"Thanks," he said, glaring at his friend.

"Sorry. Look, just take your turn while I distract this thing, okay? Watch out! It's getting near the board!"

Sirius pocketed his wand, and turned into his Animagus form. He leapt forward, darting past the robot, and led it on a chase through Grimmauld Place. Remus dutifully played on.

"Astronaut?" he said. "I have to rescue a stranded astronaut?"

He looked out of a window, and saw a man floating past. Remus ran out of the room, and wrenched open the front door. He conjured some ropes, and used them to lasso the stranger. He gave a huge tug, and pulled the astronaut all the way up to the door. Once they were both inside, the man removed his helmet.

"Thanks," he said. It was an old, tired-looking man. He had sorrow in his eyes, and Remus led him into the living room. "Oh, that's better," he said, sinking onto the couch, in between two large burn marks.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I'm starving. Could I have a sandwich?"

"Of course. Uh… there's a demonic robot wandering around the house, by the way. Might want to take cover if it comes back." With that, Remus left the room, and sneaked into the kitchen, wincing at the various crashing sounds he could hear. That fact that he could also hear Sirius' padding feet comforted him.

Meanwhile, the robot was still following the 'alien life form'. Sirius could hear and smell Remus in the kitchen, and made sure to steer clear. Finally, out of desperation, he noticed the ropes at the open front door, and barrelled straight out there. He grabbed the end of one in his mouth, and leapt over the side. The robot followed him, and began to float off into space, while Sirius continued to hold onto the rope.

He felt himself being pulled up, and assumed that it was Remus. But when he reached the porch of number twelve, he dropped the rope in surprise. Turning back into human form, he gaped at the man in front of him.

"Who are you?" he asked. Remus chuckled from the doorway.

"Someone I had to help," he said. "Come on. Now that the robot's gone, I want to get on with the game. I've got a sandwich ready for you, sir."

"Thank you, Moony," the stranger said, climbing the stairs. Remus looked astounded, but moved out of the way. The astronaut led them into the kitchen, Sirius closing doors behind them along the way.

"I say again, who _are_ you?" he asked. The old man sat on a stool at the counter, and began to dig into the sandwich. He was finished sooner than either anticipated.

"My name is Sirius Black," he said. "I'm from an alternate timeline, so to speak. Actually, your timeline." He frowned. "But your next move will determine my fate—our fate," he told Sirius.

"What happened? How old are you… uh, am I?"

"This is you ten years from now."

"What? But you—I—look so much older than that."

"Yeah, well," Old-Sirius said, "this is what happens when you're alone. You could learn something from this, Remus. Just ask Tonks out already. And you," he said to Young-Sirius, "should do something about Hermione."

"She's with Ron," he said, head propped up on his hands. "I have no chance now."

"You will if you use your next turn wisely." Old-Sirius stood, and dusted the crumbs off his spacesuit. "If you do the right thing, then you won't have played 'Zathura'. You'd be with Hermione, and you wouldn't be in danger of ending up… like me. Now, just continue already. Okay?"

Sirius nodded, and Summoned the game. When he got his ticket, he and Remus were surprised to see that it was golden.

"It says that there's a shooting star coming. I have to make a wish. W-what do I wish for?" he asked his older self.

"I can't tell you. What are you wishing more than anything else at the moment?"

"I…" Sirius stood, and went to the window, where he could see the shooting star coming. It was approaching rapidly. He had to make a decision now. As it passed, he made his wish. "I wish that I'd had enough sense to ask Hermione out before Ron could."

He heard someone approach him, and turned to see the older man getting younger. When he reached the same age, he disappeared into Young-Sirius, who winced as it happened. It was kind of like having a ghost pass through you.

"What did you wish for?" Remus asked, standing up.

The words had barely left his lips when a wall was wrenched away. They could see a gaping black hole, and looked at each other.

"Uh… well, not that!" he admitted, shouting over the roar of the suction. Furniture started to fly from the room, whooshing past the men as the whole place tilted. Remus and Sirius both fell to the floor, trying to hold onto something.

But it was no use. The house shuddered, and they both lost their grip, flying backwards into space, and into Zathura.

* * *

Next thing, they were back in the living room, looking at the board.

"Moony," Sirius said. "Don't touch that button."

"Wasn't going to," he said, and he shuddered. "We're getting rid of this, and that's that."

"Bloody Dark objects."

"Agreed."

"Oh, don't tell me _that_ was the surprise," Hermione said, startling them both as she walked into the room, holding two glasses of wine. "It doesn't even have room for a third player."

"Or a fourth," Tonks added, also carrying drinks into the lounge. The men stared at each other, eyes wide, as they both ended up with a lap-full of witch. While Tonks was virtually wound around Remus, Hermione was instead nestled into Sirius' arms, like he was a protective cocoon.

"You know, they look a bit surprised," she said. "Probably wondering what we bought while _we_ were shopping." She grinned at Tonks, who gave her an equally wicked smile in return.

"You'll both find out… tonight," she said. "Meanwhile, we should celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Sirius asked, looking at them.

"Of course," Hermione said, resting her head on her shoulder. "It's been six months."

"Knock, knock," someone said. It was Harry, his head in the fireplace. "Can I have a quick word with Moony and Padfoot? You know, in private?"

"Come on through, Harry," Remus said, anxious to find out what was going on. Harry grinned, and disappeared, only to floo through seconds later. Tonks and Hermione rolled their eyes, but left the men alone, promising to return with snacks.

"You both look like you've seen a ghost," Harry said. "What's going on?"

"That's what _we'd_ like to know," Sirius said.

"What do you mean?"

They told him what had happened, and Harry was nearly in stitches by the end.

"That's hilarious!" he said, clutching his stomach. "Merlin's underpants, you two get into some serious trouble, don't you?"

"Not. Funny. Harry," Remus said, teeth clenched. "Just tell us what's happened."

"Fine. Sirius asked out Hermione six months ago, so you asked Tonks on a date. Since then, there's been some double-dating, but not much. You like to keep them to yourselves, and even moved in together a few weeks ago."

"I want to remember this," Sirius whined. "It's maddening."

"Look, I'm only here to bring you the rings," Harry said, handing them each a small, velvet box. "You gave them to me for safe-keeping, remember? Oh. I guess you wouldn't."

Remus shoved the ring box into the right pocket of his trousers, only to feel it chinking against something else. He felt a jolt as he touched it, and blinked rapidly. Several seconds later, he smiled, and shook his head.

"It's… I've remembered," he said. "Sirius, I've remembered." He pulled out the object, and laughed when he saw that it was the Time-Turner. "Here. Touch it."

Sirius took it from his friend, and a current of _something_ went through his hand, and straight to his brain. It was dizzying, but not in a bad way. He could remember now, too. Every date, every kiss, every caress, every word spoken for the last six months.

"Sweet," he whispered. Just then, the girls knocked at the door.

"Are you done yet?" Tonks called.

"Uh… almost!" Remus replied. Sirius shoved the Time-Turner into his pocket, and looked at the board-game.

"I'll get rid of it," Harry said, and he picked up the game. He slid it into its box, called out a good bye to Hermione and Tonks, and flooed straight to the Ministry.

"You can come back in now," Sirius said, hiding the jewellery box in a pocket of his jacket. He grinned at Moony.

Thank Circe for shooting stars, they both thought as their girlfriends re-entered the living room.

THE END

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**

I know, I should have ended on a Snanger note, since that's been the main pairing, but this is all I could think of for this story, so this is what you got.

**For those who think that pairing Hermione with Percy is random, or disturbing, this is kind of in deference to the people who reviewed "With a Book", and suggested that I write a Hermione/Percy story. I've now got two plotted. Of course, I'm one of those people who does non-canon, and sometimes completely ludicrous, pairings.**

**Anyway, by now you can see why chapter ten was one of the clues. The other refers to the fact that Kristen Stewart plays the older sister in "Zathura", and she's Bella in "Twilight".**

**Just sayin'.**

**Review, review, review!**


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